


The Girl That Changed Everything

by LoveSpell38



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, F/M, Major Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 49
Words: 259,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18567238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveSpell38/pseuds/LoveSpell38
Summary: Change is unavoidable when Harry meets Elle, an American girl who arrives unexpectedly at Hogwarts. She’s annoying, outgoing, blunt...and yet Harry can’t get her off his mind. Falling in love is not an option, but it’s also not something they can ignore. And if you change one thing, you might as well change everything.





	1. The Girl Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, except the original ones.
> 
> Author’s Note: This story takes place immediately after the fifth book, and by now is completely out of canon. However, I hope you’ll still be willing to give it a chance. 
> 
> It’s been several years since I first posted my story online, and since then many things have changed. That includes my writing style. I was 15 when I first decided to try my hand at fanfiction and I fell in love with the idea of getting to write my own stories, alongside the characters and settings of my favorite book series of all time. I remember sitting in 9th grade math class, daydreaming about my next chapters and hoping for a single praiseworthy review. 
> 
> Now that I’m older, fanfiction, along with my old stories, have completely fallen off my radar. Real life has become just a tad more important. However, once in a while, I enjoy clicking on my old profile and reading through my old stories, and especially my old reviews (which still mean the world to me). I’m in the midst of updating The Girl Who Changed Everything, mainly to reflect my more mature writing style and to fix the many grammatical mistakes embedded within the virtual pages. Nothing substantial will be changed, but I hope to make this story an easier and more enjoyable read. 
> 
> This is what resulted from deciding to write my take on the “American OC who transfers to Hogwarts” trope. Thanks to all who still continue to read this…without my reviewers, writing would not have been as much fun!
> 
> P.S.: This story was originally posted to harrypotterfanfiction.com, and has been cross-posted to Archive of our Own for the aesthetic.

**Prologue**

The silence in Dumbledore’s office still rang long after Harry had left. The sun had risen on a new era- the world now knew about Voldemort’s existence, and Harry now knew about the prophecy. Dumbledore resisted the urge to lay his head on the desk; the darkness that lay in the boy’s path would soon prove too much for the both of them.

If only there were some way to let in a little more light…

At that moment, there was a knock on the office door. Sure that Harry would not be returning so soon, not after their revelatory meeting, Dumbledore called for the visitor to come inside.

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He strode into Dumbledore’s office, wearing an equal expression of exhaustion and seriousness. Dumbledore stood abruptly.

“Kingsley,” he said slowly, surveying the man before him closely. “Surely you haven’t just come from the Ministry?”

Kingsley shook his head, his gold earring glinting in the sunlight from the window. “The Aurors and the Order left the Department of Mysteries before the Daily Prophet caught wind we were there- though I’m sure the Minister will have told them everything by now,” he explained. His voice was calm, even after the deadly events of the previous night. “I came because I have news concerning the international branch of the Order of the Phoenix.”

Dumbledore stood a little straighter. Not many knew there were former Order members living abroad.

“What news?” Dumbledore asked sharply. He had not been planning on contacting them, but perhaps after last night, he should make an attempt…

“It’s about the family you asked me to keep tabs on,” Kingsley continued. “The family from America.”

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “Yes,” he said. “What about them?”

Kingsley took a deep breath. “They were murdered early this morning, Dumbledore. The man and the woman. Muggle authorities found the house in ruins, but their bodies were untouched.”

Dumbledore didn’t think there could be any surprises left after the night they had just lived through. He was wrong. He gripped the edge of his desk tightly.

“It was him?” Dumbledore pressed, keeping his voice light.

Kingsley nodded. “We think he apparated there after fleeing the Ministry. He was so angry at the Order for interfering in the Hall of Prophecy- he must have been desperate for some sort of revenge. The Levine’s have always been a threat to him, and now they’re out of the way.”

Dumbledore bowed his head. “And their daughter?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Surprisingly, Kingsley smiled slightly. “Alive,” he said. “She was not home when Lord Voldemort turned up. I’m not sure she knows yet about the death of her parents.”

Dumbledore sighed, yet was suddenly filled with a sense of purpose. He knew, instinctively, what he must do. Perhaps this was the light they needed after all, though it was disguised in the deadliest of news.

“I will go to her,” Dumbledore said, gathering up his travelling cloak. “She will need guidance.”

Kingsley frowned. “Headmaster,” he began cautiously. “Have you ever met this girl? Won’t she be alarmed?”

 Dumbledore cast Kingsley a shrewd look. “No more alarmed than she already is, I presume. Thank you for the news, Kingsley.” He made to stride from his office, but paused as he drew level with Shacklebolt’s shoulder.

“Please assist Minerva in watching over the school today. I shall return in a few hours.”

And with that, Dumbledore departed for America.

* * *

Ally was driving them home in her mom’s red convertible. Elle and Brian were both in the backseat, drowsy after a long day of swimming and letting off some steam. Their fifth year exams had just ended, and they had been eager to celebrate the end of the semester.

Elle stretched her arms above her head, taking in the night sky and enjoying the breeze as it ruffled her long blonde hair. She felt content- she was with her best friends, she was free of homework, and she was looking forward to an extremely relaxing summer in the California sunshine.

Brian was skimming through a copy of the _L.A. Prophet_ , frowning. Elle was amazed at how he could concentrate, nonetheless make out the words so late at night. But then again, she was amazed that Ally could keep her eyes on the road after staying up for hours. It was even scarier when she remembered that Ally had just turned sixteen and gotten her driver’s license only a week prior.

Elle looked over at Brian more closely, and saw that he had his wand lit. He was peering at the words so intently that he didn’t notice Elle lean over him, nor did he register her gentle poke on the shoulder.

“Anything good in there?” Elle asked carelessly, quickly stifling a yawn. She couldn’t wait to climb into her own bed and sleep the day away. The hills flew by on either side of them.

“Yeah,” Brian said slowly. “You know that dark wizard we learned about in school, that Lord Voldemort?”

 Elle frowned, as Ally instinctively shuddered.

“Don’t say that name, Brian!” she scolded, looking suddenly alert. “My parents told me to refer to him as You-Know-Who!” Ally’s parents were Aurors, working for MACUSA.

“But, isn’t he the wizard who terrorized Europe? I thought he was dead! What’s this got to do with us?” Elle asked, curious as to why her friends looked so tense all of a sudden.

Brian ran a hand through his short brown hair. “Well, it looks like he returned,” Brian replied slowly. “He’s a danger to the whole world, not just Britain. You know Harry Potter, right? He’s been saying Lord- sorry, You-Know-Who- has been alive for the past year. Well, their Ministry finally accepted he was telling the truth last night after You-Know-Who was spotted. Apparently, Potter escaped from him again.”

Brian now shoved the paper in front of Elle’s face. “Look, there’s a picture,” he said.

Elle pushed her hair out of her eyes, smoothed the paper over her jeans, and looked down. Yup, there was the boy they had also learned about in school- taller than she remembered, with glasses, messy black hair, and that famous lightning-shaped scar shining on his forehead.

“He looks stressed,” Elle observed, peering at the picture.

“And dreamy,” Ally sighed, sparing the picture a quick glance before turning her eyes back to the road. Her short blond bob was glimmering in the streetlights. 

“Stressed would be an understatement,” Brian laughed, taking the paper back. “Don’t you remember all the press about the Triwizard Tournament and all the crap they put him through? I don’t blame the guy for looking tense.”

“You sound like a fan of his,” Elle teased, trying to bring back the lighthearted mood. She still didn’t see what any of this had to do with them.

Brian shrugged. “I just think we should start paying more attention to the news.”

“We’ll start scouring the papers tomorrow,” Ally insisted, turning down a quiet street. “Elle, you’re up first. Look alive, we’re almost there.”

Elle yawned again and snatched up her purse. “Thanks for driving, Ally,” she said. “I can’t wait until I’m sixteen, but that’s not until end of August.”

“We know when your birthday is, silly,” Ally teased, nearing the end of the street. Brian rolled his eyes.

Elle opened her mouth to retort, but was stopped by the sudden glare of police lights. Red and blue sirens flashed everywhere, and in the distance she heard the wail of an ambulance. Ally slammed on the breaks and gave a gasp of surprise. Brian made no noise, but involuntarily reached out a hand and gripped Elle’s shoulder.

“What the…” Ally muttered. “Elle, are those police outside _your_ house?”

Elle, wide-eyed, shook her head. “No,” she insisted finally, after a long pause. “It’s got to be the neighbor’s house. They’re always having celebrity drama.”

Brian and Ally gave her skeptic looks. Ally had parked farther down the hill than she usually did, and to be fair, the neighborhood was shrouded in darkness- aside from the blinking police lights. Still, the idea that the police were here to investigate her boring house was laughable.

“Seriously, guys, it’s okay,” Elle continued, shrugging off Brian’s hand from her shoulder and opening the car door. “I’ll let you both know when I’m inside safely. Just don’t hang around here too long, the traffic might be tough getting back down the hill.”

“I don’t know,” Brian said, in a protective, grumpy growl. He was only a few months older than the two girls, yet usually acted like a much older, defensive big brother. “We should wait here until you’re sure nothing’s wrong.”

Elle sighed. “Nothing is wrong!” she exclaimed, growing annoyed. “I appreciate the concern, but my parents aren’t going to be happy when they see I’ve been out all night, and I’m sure all this police activity isn’t going to help their tempers. I better get inside.”

Ally shook her blond bob, looking irritated. “Fine,” she said shortly, her arms crossed. “Just…please call us in a bit so we know you’re okay, Elle.” She sounded unnaturally stern- Ally was usually just as carefree and oblivious as Elle was, if not more so.

“I will,” Elle promised, standing up at last and slamming the car door shut. “See you two tomorrow!”

Elle watched as the convertible drove off, and made her way slowly up the hill on foot. The lights and sounds of sirens were getting closer. She wondered what the neighbors had done this time, and found herself again craving the comfort of her bedroom. She rounded a corner, and looked up at the dark hills toward the direction of her house. She gave an ugly gasp and stopped dead.

Her house was in ruins. The ceiling had caved in, and was smoking slightly. Policemen were, indeed, swarming in front of her own front door. They were starting to erect yellow police tape. Her parents were nowhere to be seen.

“Mom!” Elle shouted, running quickly toward her house, dropping her purse on the gravel driveway. “Dad!”

An officer heard her, and held out his arms to stop her coming closer. “Miss, this area is off-limits, please step away.”

Elle barely paid him any mind. “That’s my house!” she shrieked, ducking under the officer’s arms. The officer stepped in front of her again, blocking her access.

“Are you Danielle Levine?” he asked, peering down at a piece of paper, and gripping his radio.

“Yes,” Elle gasped, running a hand through her hair, no longer struggling to get away. She wanted answers. She had just heard cracks in the distance, which meant that some wizards had apparated well outside the boundary of the police tape. It was them she wanted to speak to, not the muggles. However, the officer continued to block her path.

“Where are my parents?” Elle asked him, looking around in a panic. She had no idea who had blown apart their house, but knew her mother would be able to fix it in seconds. She would be furious at the thought of vandals, or whoever had done this…

The officer cleared his throat, and looked suddenly stiff and awkward. “Miss, I’m sorry…your parents are dead. We’ve already removed their bodies from the scene. You’ll need to come with me and identify them.”

Elle felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of her. Her knees felt weak, and the whole world seemed to slow down.

“Dead?” she repeated, not comprehending. “No, they can’t be…mom!” she shouted again, twirling on the spot desperately. “Dad!” She was screaming now, and couldn’t understand why they weren’t answering her cries…

“Miss!” the officer repeated sternly, beckoning to his squad for back-up. “You must listen to me, your parents…”

But Elle couldn’t bear to hear him repeat those words. She spun on her heel and ran, her feet thudding on the pavement, toward the direction of the woods behind her house. She didn’t understand, but she knew her parents couldn’t be dead. But then, why was her house destroyed? All her possessions were in there. Her parents were in there, they had to be! What was going on?

Suddenly, she was alone. The woods had swallowed her up. Elle sat down shakily on a tree stump. It was where she used to play as a little girl. She could still see the smoke billowing from her roof, but she could no longer hear the sirens. She put her head in her hands and took a few deep breaths. She felt tears swimming in her eyes, but she was too shocked to cry. She felt as though she were in shock- she was shaking all over. Elle kept her eyes closed shut, willing her parents to come and find her.

She heard rustling, and the sound of leaves cracking, yet couldn’t seem to open her eyes. Then, she heard a voice, a voice that was strangely calm and soothing.

“Hello, Elle,” said a man softly.

Elle looked up with a start. She was still shaking madly, and assumed she must be hallucinating the tall wizard with the silver hair and beard, dressed in spangled robes. He looked strangely familiar.

“Who are you?” she whispered, her eyes wide. “How do you know my name?”

The man knelt down so that he was on her level. “My name is Albus Dumbledore,” he explained, still in that calm voice. “I knew your parents. Listen to me very closely, Elle- your parents were murdered tonight by Lord Voldemort.”

Elle let out a moan of horror. “It’s true?” she choked, fresh tears now pouring down her cheeks. “They’re dead?”

Dumbledore nodded. Elle buried her face in her hands again.

“But, why?” she cried, still not understanding. “They had nothing to do with Lord Voldemort!” She looked at Dumbledore, who was silent. “Did he kill them because of what…of what my mother could do?” she asked softly.

Dumbledore frowned. “What is it that she can do?” he asked curiously.

“Telekinesis,” Elle answered, staring down at her hands now. “Wandless magic. She can perform spells using her mind. I can do it too, sort of…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. This wasn’t something she had told anyone before. Her mom had always told her to keep it secret. 

Dumbledore, however, shook his head. “No,” he answered slowly. “He killed them because they were friendly with me. Lord Voldemort escaped our duel a short while ago, and he’s out for revenge. Your parents were international members of an organization I put together, an anti-Voldemort group called the Order of the Phoenix. As of tonight, they were the last surviving members. Voldemort killed them all.”

Elle was stunned into silence. “They never told me about an Order…about you…”

Dumbledore bowed his head. “I am sorry,” he told Elle mournfully. “I believe they were trying to protect you.”

Dumbledore stood, yet Elle made no attempt at movement. She felt rooted to the spot, however now that Dumbledore was here, her breath had steadied.

“I can’t believe they’re gone,” Elle swallowed, shaking her head. “I don’t have any other relatives, I’m…I’m alone.”

“No,” Dumbledore corrected again, yet kindly. “You have your Aunt and Uncle, in England. If you will allow me to send a letter to them, I will explain everything.”

Elle gazed at Dumbledore, wide-eyed. “My mother’s sister and her husband? But they’re muggles, and I’ve only met them once. They hate me.” 

“I understand,” Dumbledore said, folding his arms over his robes. “You may stay here with a friend, if you wish. You are old enough to decide.”

Elle looked around, thinking. She thought of leaving Ally and Brian to live with her estranged, muggle relatives. She thought of leaving the school that she loved. Yet, she also thought about staying here without her house, or her belongings, or her parents. Everything about Southern California seemed cold now; empty. There was nothing for her here.

“I can’t stay,” Elle whispered, near tears again. “Things won’t be the same. I don’t want to be without my parents.” She already painfully missed her mother’s hug, and her dad’s laugh. She couldn’t remember saying a proper goodbye to them that morning, or saying “I love you.” She would never get that chance again, not now that she was an orphan.

“If you leave,” Dumbledore said, “I can arrange for you to attend my school. You will be safe there.”

Elle didn’t give a damn about her safety. She almost wished she had come home earlier, and that Voldemort had killed her too.

Brushing these dark thoughts aside, she stood up. Her legs were still shaking.

“Your school?” she asked Dumbledore. “You mean, Hogwarts?” It had seemed ages ago that she had read the name in Brian’s newspaper, underneath the picture of Harry Potter.

Dumbledore nodded, and gestured for her to follow him out of the forest. In the distance, the sun was beginning to rise. Elle walked with Dumbledore in silence, back to her smoldering house.

She didn’t think about what would happen in the next few days- packing up the few things she could salvage from the ruins, saying goodbye to her friends, arriving at her Aunt and Uncle’s house, unwanted. She could only think about the headline of Brian’s newspaper; a headline she had dismissed as not having anything to do with her. Now, she felt as though her whole future centered on it. That headline would haunt her dreams for the next few months.

The headline had read, **“The Dark Lord Returns.”**

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Girl Next Door**

Despite all hopes for a glorious new start to the summer after fifth year, Harry was, nonetheless, unfazed as he woke up once again at the Dursley’s. 

Two months of mourning for his godfather, and hearing no news from his friends or anybody at headquarters, had marred Harry’s current summer predicament significantly- in fact, he felt grouchier than he usually felt while staying with his Aunt and Uncle. 

But, no matter how many times he dwelled upon his hatred at being stuck on Privet Drive, he kept reminding himself that it was for the best. If he looked on the bright side, he would find that there were only a few more weeks left to go before term started on September 1st. Also, thanks to the heavy intimidation of Mad-Eye Moody, and the stern persistence of Mr. Weasley, the Dursley’s weren’t bothering him quite as much as usual. In fact, they were ignoring Harry completely.

After another morning of sitting around in bed, mulling things over in his underwear, Harry decided to make a grand effort to not only get up, but get dressed as well. As he threw on his normal summer attire of jeans and a T-shirt, he checked his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging lopsided on the tattered wall of his too-small bedroom.

After an uneven reflection of unruly black hair bounced back at him, Harry made his way over to the window. As if acting on pure impulse, he glanced up at the sky, but instead of catching a glimpse of an owl’s wing, all that greeted him was blinding sunlight. He could even hear birds chirping in the distance, which would make any other person cheerful, but just made Harry feel more annoyed. From the bright sunshine and the twittering of birds, it felt as though the morning were mocking his dark, melancholy thoughts. He missed Sirius more than he would ever admit out loud. 

Gazing down into his neighbor’s yard, his stare immediately settled on a sight that was so unexpected, and yet so pleasantly surprising, that he found he couldn’t look away- at least, not yet. 

After months of looking upon nobody but the Dursley’s, it was a jolt to look upon another person his age, someone so strikingly different from the drab exterior of Privet Drive. Harry immediately straightened up and pressed his forehead to the glass to get a better look, while making sure the curtains hid his silhouette. 

In his next-door neighbor’s yard lay a girl, about sixteen by the looks of it. She was apparently attempting to tan herself by lying comfortably on a lounge chair, wearing nothing but a light blue bikini and a pair of sunglasses. It was a sight to knock Harry out of his heavy mourning, that was for sure. No one typically dared show so much skin out on these streets- the neighbors would gossip. Harry hadn’t even known anyone his age lived on Privet Drive, apart from the greasy boys in Dudley’s gang. 

Sense and knowledge screamed at Harry to turn away from the window, but he stayed put. He watched as the mystery girl reached down beside her and picked up a glass with a long, pink squiggly straw. She took a sip, and replaced the glass to its position on the grass beside her. Every move of hers was mesmerizing, but from this location Harry could not see her face, or even tell what color hair she had- the sun was blinding and obstructing every object in sight.

Harry sighed, and gazed around his pathetic room, where he had spent the whole summer thus far trying to figure out and rearrange his life. Well, he could forget trying to contact the Order, or Ron, or Hermione. Right now, all his hormones were kicking into full gear, and all he wanted to do was go outside and get a better look at the girl next door. Maybe he would introduce himself, he thought, while exiting the room in a rush, but not before catching one last glimpse of the mirror.  _Then again, maybe not._

Traipsing downstairs as silently as he could, Harry walked past the kitchen where his Aunt was cooking breakfast. The scent of fatty bacon and pancake batter sizzling on the stove was not enough to encourage Harry to enter the kitchen, and he walked right past his Aunt and Uncle into the hall and out the front door. When no protests or shouts demanding where he was going rang out, Harry figured that they were ignoring him as usual and slammed the door shut.

Blinking in the extra bright sunlight, Harry instinctively glanced into the neighbor’s front yard again and saw that the girl was still there, tanning. A portable stereo lay on the ground beside her drink, and cheesy pop songs blared from the speakers and filled the entire street. It was almost as though she were the lone star of a summer television commercial.

Harry took a step towards her, but then hesitated. The girl continued to lay still, with her sunglasses covering her eyes and a small frown on her face, and Harry wondered if she had fallen asleep. At the very least, it didn’t appear as if she had heard him.

Suddenly uncertain as to what he was doing, Harry tried to snap himself back to reality. He had no right to be standing here, spying on some girl while she was sunbathing, and most likely seeking privacy. But then again, how much privacy did she expect, laying out here in the middle of the day for the entire block to see?

Harry was considering whether to go back inside, or say something and risk disturbing her (since he had to admit, his hovering gaze was starting to get creepy) when a shrewd woman’s voice pierced the air behind him. 

Taken aback, Harry immediately jumped behind the nearest bush and suddenly felt ashamed, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Cursing himself for hiding, Harry shifted a little so that he could see over the leaves and noticed that the girl had sat up, and pushed the sunglasses so that they were resting on top of her head.

It only took a couple of seconds for Harry to notice how pretty she was. She had a friendly face and brilliant green eyes that Harry could see sparkling even from his hideout. She had golden blonde hair that was the exact same color of the sun currently beating down hard upon Harry’s back, and a small, thin mouth that probably looked amazing when she smiled, but was presently formed in a straight, suspicious line. Harry however had no more time to contemplate the girl’s physical appearance, since the woman had begun shouting.

“Elle! What are you doing out there? What is that awful music? Come inside this instant!”

Elle rolled her eyes and swung her legs over the edge of the chair, swiftly turning off her stereo and picking up her glass. She looked briefly in the direction of the bush Harry was crouching behind, and for a moment Harry thought she had seen him, but a second later she called “I’m coming Aunt Jade, calm down!” to the woman standing in her doorway.

She stood up, and Harry held his breath until she walked towards the house and greeted her Aunt without a backwards glance. The woman had quickly covered the girl up in a towel and shooed her inside, insisting that her behavior was inappropriate. The door swung shut as they argued, and the yard was suddenly quiet and empty.

Harry sighed, and leaned back against the bush with a strange sort of relief. So, the girl was American. He wondered where she had come from, and how long she had been living next door to him. Certainly, not the whole summer, he would have noticed her by now. She must have just moved in. But why?

For no reason whatsoever, Harry found himself wanting to find out more. It felt so comforting to realize that there may be somebody else on Privet Drive, somebody who wouldn’t scorn at the sight of him and gossip about his strange habits behind closed windows, that he almost felt excited. Maybe the rest of the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all! And who cared if she was a muggle? He hadn’t even spoken to her yet, but he knew she couldn’t be anything like the Dursley’s…maybe they would even end up becoming friends. 

Harry decided on the spot that the next time he saw her outside, he would introduce himself. Feeling satisfied with this decision, Harry finally got up and went back inside the house.

Returning to his room, he received his second surprise of the day. After weeks of waiting for news and acknowledgement from anybody in the wizarding world, there finally sat an owl waiting expectantly on his bed, with a rumpled letter in its beak. A second glance identified the bird as Ron’s owl, Pig, and Harry went over to him, relieving the tiny bird of its weather-beaten parcel. Pig hooted happily and zoomed off through the window, with his own owl, Hedwig, peering disapprovingly after him. Harry tore the letter open and began to read.

_Hey Harry,_

_How is everything? How are the muggles, are they treating you well? Listen, I’m sorry about not contacting you yet this summer, but as you probably know, I had to keep quiet. Anyway, this is kind of last minute, but somebody from the Order will come and pick you up tonight and bring you to headquarters. Hermione is already here. Just make sure you’re packed and everything, alright? Oh, and uh, Hermione wants me to remind you that we’re both here for you anytime you want to talk, okay? But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Okay-now Hermione’s telling me that I’m being insensitive. I’ll just stop writing. I’ll see you later._

_Ron_

Harry laughed a little at Ron’s attempted sympathy, but didn’t allow himself to be bothered by it. Instead, he crumpled up the letter and began throwing his things together in a suitcase, suddenly cheerful at the thought of leaving so soon. He couldn’t believe there had been two months of waiting, and now plans for his departure had been arranged in mere minutes.

As he tossed some clothes and schoolbooks into the bottom of his trunk, his thoughts drifted back to the girl. What was her name? Oh, yeah. Elle.There was no point in meeting her now, but it was probably for the best. He had no time to make attachments with people outside his world, people with no clue about his life or who he was. Plus, she hadn’t looked like the type of girl willing to put up with drama and tragedy, the two things that completely consumed Harry’s life from top to bottom. Odds also were that she was snooty and conceited. Why else would she be out sunbathing in a skimpy bikini, with no regard for who saw her or who was annoyed by her overloud music?

Harry shook his head. Girls like her wanted nothing to do with boys like him. He had enough experience with the female population to know that by now. 

It was best for him to leave, and never think about her again.

 


	2. Back to Grimmauld Place

The transition from the Dursley’s to Grimmauld Place shouldn’t have felt particularly shocking to Harry, seeing as how he had spent most of last summer there. And yet, it was almost as if Harry had entered into another dimension the second he stepped through the magical threshold.

He had expected it to look and feel drastically different than it had the previous summer, but everything in the house appeared oddly unchanged. The hallways were dark and dank, the chandeliers were musty and dusty, and everything from the mounted house elf heads to the portraits on the walls held a strong reminder of Sirius.

Knowing that his godfather wasn’t about to come bursting out of the other room, grinning broadly and welcoming Harry, was enough to trigger all of his emotions, the ones he had worked so hard at suppressing ever since the summer began.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Harry dolefully ascended the stairs and, just as he had suspected, heard voices coming from the nearest room on the second landing. Gingerly, he pushed open the door to the room him and Ron had shared the previous summer and found Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting cross-legged on the floor in careless conversation.

As soon as he walked in, however, Hermione jumped up and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. It wasn’t the same hug he had received from her last year- this one was more soft and tender, as if she was afraid that if she squeezed too tightly she might break him. He hugged her back normally to let her know that he didn’t need to be treated any differently, and stepped back to get a good look at her.  
  
“Harry! I’m so glad you’re here! When did you arrive? We didn’t even hear you come in!” she exclaimed in a rush.  
  
Harry grinned. “Just a few minutes ago, Hermione. Calm down.”  
  
Two months certainly wasn’t enough time for a person to completely transform, but for someone whom Harry had known for over five years, Hermione seemed to have grown up overnight. Her bushy hair and know-it-all attitude were still there, to be sure, but it was obvious that something within her had changed, and she looked more solemn and serious than Harry had ever seen her. Same with Ron as well, Harry realized, as he observed his friend. When was it that they became adults? Was it their battle at the Ministry that had made them appear older, and perhaps, wiser? Harry wondered if he looked as different to them as they did to him, and a second glance at their faces assured Harry that he did.  
  
Suddenly laughing at himself, Harry decided to lighten the mood and tossed another grin at his friends. “Good to see you, Hermione,” he remarked. “You look great.”  
  
“Thanks Harry,” she replied, smiling. And then, for some unknown reason, she looked over at Ron, as if to gouge a compliment from him as well. Ron caught her eye, and before Harry knew it, the two of them had started blushing.  
  
Confused by this sudden change of behavior, Harry looked over at Ginny for an explanation, but received only a knowing expression in return, which was all he needed to know. It seemed as if age, whether emotional or physical, wasn’t the only thing that had changed over the summer.  
  
After Ron and Hermione had come out of their trance, Hermione walked Harry over to the floor where they were sitting. Hermione accidentally brushed Ron’s shoulder on the way, which caused him to jump about five feet in the air before turning a brilliant shade of magenta. Hermione pretended not to notice, but Ginny looked as if she were on the verge of laughter.  
  
“So,” Harry began, and they all looked up. “What’s been going on? Where is everyone?”  
  
The three of them breathed a sigh of relief, as if they were expecting shouting and accusations, and Ron’s face turned back to normal. “In a meeting,” he answered calmly. “They’ll be out soon though, and then we can have dinner. Mum will be pleased to see you.”  
  
“Okay,” Harry said, then turned to Ginny. “How’s Dean?” he asked, with an unexpected curiosity. Ginny shrugged, unfazed.  
  
“We broke up toward the end of June,” she replied easily. Hermione gave her a sympathetic gaze, but Ginny ignored it.  
  
“Oh. I'm sorry,” Harry said, not knowing what else to add, and regretting asking the question in the first place.  
  
“Yeah, but it looks like Ginny’s found someone new. She spends all her time in her room, sending love letters. Who are you sending them to, anyway?” Ron asked, in an annoyingly pushy voice, as Ginny swatted him angrily with a pillow.  
  
“No one! And they’re not love letters!” she retorted angrily, and this time it was she who blushed.  
  
“Sure,” Ron said, in apparent disbelief, but stopped as Hermione gave him a stern look. Harry realized all too quickly that he wasn’t about to learn what was going on with Ginny until later.  
  
Ron cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation back on safe ground. “So,” he said casually to Harry, “How was your summer? Uh, besides the obvious trouble with the muggles, of course.”  
  
Harry shrugged. “Pretty normal, I guess. No dementor attacks this time at least, and I haven’t been expelled again. It’s almost worse this way, not knowing what’s been happening…what he’s been up to…”

“I know,” Hermione said in a hushed voice. “The Ministry have sent out those leaflets, you must have seen them. Everyone’s received one, even wizards living abroad.”

Harry nodded, remembering the leaflet he had received the first week of summer, and all the fresh horrors it had brought. How was he supposed to face Voldemort, let alone an army of Inferi and Giants? And Hermione had mentioned wizards abroad…

He continued to drift off into thought, which must have made him look pretty miserable, because Ron and Hermione immediately shared a glance.  
  
“Listen, Harry, if anything’s happened…I mean, if you want to talk about…we’re here to…” Hermione started, trailing off uncertainly.  
  
“Are you alright?” Ron asked, a little more straightforwardly. Ginny just sat there, peering at him intently.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about Sirius. At least, not at the moment.”  
  
“Oh,” Hermione said, taken aback. “Then, what are you thinking about?”  
  
Harry took in their anticipatory faces and laughed. “It’s nothing. I saw a girl this morning in my next door neighbor’s yard, that’s all. She’s American.”  
  
Ron looked confused. “And?”  
  
“And nothing,” Harry confessed. “She was different from anybody I’d ever seen before, that’s all. There's usually no girls out sunbathing on Privet Drive, trust me. But I’m never going to see her again, so it doesn’t matter.”  
  
Ron smirked. “You never know,” he said, looking briefly at Hermione and then looking down at the floor. Harry sighed.  
  
“I doubt it,” he said. “It feels like everything is going to change this year.” For a second, he remembered the way that girl’s green eyes had sparkled at him in the sunlight, but then caught the looks on his friends’ faces and grinned apologetically.  
  
“Oh, come on. Let’s see if the meeting is over, shall we?” Hermione suggested, getting up and being careful not to touch Ron again.  
  
“Fine by me,” said Ron. He, in contrast, looked quite eager for more bodily contact.   
 


	3. A Surprising Journey

The last few weeks Harry spent at Grimmauld Place sped by, with an unusually small amount of interesting things to report, and before he knew it the end of August had arrived and he and his friends were leaving for Kings Cross Station.   
  
Packing up the last of his things, Harry took one final look around the empty room. He was immensely glad to be leaving. Living in his godfather’s house gave him an unpleasant feeling, and it seemed as if the longer he stayed, the more worried Ron and Hermione became that he was about to collapse from an emotional breakdown. Being back at Hogwarts would be a pleasant relief from these dreary surroundings, and he couldn’t wait to go back to worrying about normal things such as classes and Quidditch, instead of having to make up excuses in lieu of talking about Sirius.

At least his friends had managed to keep his mind off of the prophecy. Which he had still failed to mention, or explain.   
  
Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted them to know about the prophecy yet, and so had been stalling discussion about it all summer. But once at Hogwarts the secret would soon become impossible to keep, and his friends deserved to know the truth. He resolved to tell them as soon as they got onto the train.  
  
Once he closed his trunk and carried it downstairs, time moved swiftly. They called a couple of taxis to take them to the station, said goodbye to the Order members, and were off. The trip seemed so routine by now, that Harry hardly batted an eye as they approached Kings Cross. Once they got to the station, they passed stealthily through the innocent looking barrier and paused briefly in front of the gleaming silhouette of the Hogwarts Express before saying farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and setting off to find an empty compartment. 

They found a vacant section way in the back, where Ron and Hermione would join Harry once they had been relieved of their Prefect duties, and minutes later the whistle blew as the train set off for its magical destination.  
  
The first two hours were uneventful. Students chattered happily in the corridors as the trio spent their time eating chocolate frogs and every flavor beans, playing exploding snap and wizard’s chess, and using their final homework-free hours to their advantage. The only glitch in their carefree afternoon occurred when Draco Malfoy butted his head into their compartment a little after lunchtime. By this time Ginny had decided to join them, and before Harry and Ron could clench their fists and suggest that Malfoy get the hell out or else, Draco immediately noticed her and fell silent.

Ginny looked up, noticed Malfoy’s menacing stare, and fell silent too.  
  
Harry and Ron shared a look, but before either one could ask why he was bothering them, Malfoy left without another word. Hermione frowned and look towards Ginny for an explanation, but Ginny was staring out the window, purposefully avoiding her gaze.  
  
Ron frowned at Harry. “At least Malfoy didn’t try anything this time…” he began, but Ginny jumped up and mumbled something about going to the toilets. She seemed preoccupied, and quickly left the compartment, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Hermione looked after her, startled, and Ron looked confused. There was silence for a few moments until Ron piped up again.  
  
“She better not be running back to Dean.”  
  
The train rattled on for another couple of hours, and the sky outside began to turn a velvety black. Ginny had not returned. Harry left the compartment once to make his own trip to the toilets, and on the way back he noticed that the crowd lingering in the corridors had thinned a little. All of the students seemed to be congregating around one compartment near the front, where a girl’s voice filtered out and filled the entire length of the train.

Harry, not bothering to find out who it was or what she was saying, traipsed back to his own compartment and shut the door. The three of them changed into their robes and sat down, waiting for the train to arrive at Hogwarts.  
  
Silence fell, and Harry turned his attention to the window. He reckoned that this was as good a time as any to tell his friends about the prophecy, since who knew when they would be able to catch a moment to themselves again? It was sort of out the blue, but Harry reckoned it was better to catch them off guard anyway.  
  
“So…” he started, waiting for them to glance inquisitively in his direction.  
  
“Yeah?” asked Ron.  
  
“There’s something important I have to tell you.”  
  
“What is it?” Hermione questioned, concern immediately transforming her features.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, and then proceeded to tell his friends all about the prophecy and what it meant. At least, as far as he knew, and what Dumbledore suspected. He felt as though he had been talking for hours, but by the time he was done Hermione was holding her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide, and Ron’s face was a little pale. However, they recovered and put on encouraging faces rather quickly.   
  
“You mean…you’re definitely the one who has to destroy you-know-who?” Ron clarified slowly, as if trying to make sense of all this.  
  
“And neither can live, while the other survives…” Hermione repeated slowly.   
  
“How come you didn’t tell us earlier, Harry?”  
  
“You must be really scared…”  
  
“Don’t worry mate, I’m sure…”  
  
“Stop!” Harry said loudly. Hermione and Ron fell silent and just sat there, staring at him.  
  
Harry sighed, and then said calmly, “Listen. I didn’t tell you earlier, because I didn’t want to upset you. Also, I needed time to understand it for myself. And don’t worry, I’m not upset or scared about this and I’m not just trying to be brave, but really, what happens, happens, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. Dumbledore and I already discussed this, so I don’t want you two to worry either, okay?”

Hermione smiled weakly. “We may be worried, Harry,” she said calmly. “But Ron and I are with you in this. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Ron nodded vigorously, and Harry felt suddenly as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.   
  
The train slowed, and finally rolled its way in to Hogsmeade Station. Everybody immediately stood up and waited to depart, while Ron and Hermione left to attend to their Prefect duties. 

Harry, immensely relieved, hopped off the train by himself and made his way over to the carriages in order to secure one for the three of them. He heard Neville shouting his name from behind and turned around to wave hello. As he did Harry accidentally bumped into someone and stumbled slightly backwards.  
  
“Hey, watch it!” a girl’s voice rang out angrily.  
  
Harry quickly turned to apologize, but the girl had already disappeared into a carriage.   
  



	4. The New Girl

The majestic towers and turrets of Hogwarts gleamed brightly and brilliantly against the peaceful night sky as the carriages pulled up to the castle and deposited the sea of students near the marble front steps. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione got out and made their way up the stairs and into the main hallway, where they kept going until they reached the Great Hall. The transparent ceiling was glittering with stars and floating candles. The promise of warm, luscious food was enough to lighten Harry’s mood until he almost felt giddy, which was a big improvement from his mournful days and glum summer nights.

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry greeted his fellow housemates and ignored the common whispers and stares that seemed to follow him now wherever he went. In order to distract himself from this new batch of gossip favored by most second and third years, Harry observed the rest of his table and noticed immediately that Dean was sitting awfully close to Lavender…closer than was necessary, anyway. Was that his hand snaking around her back, or was he just trying to grab some silverware? Remembering his and Ginny’s breakup, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this might have been the cause, and as he looked to his right he saw with another shock that Seamus was hand in hand with Parvati Patil. Neville, who sat sandwiched between Seamus and Dean, wore an awkward expression.

Ron, noticing the obvious pairings, leaned over to Harry and whispered, “Reckon they invested in some love potion over the summer?”

Harry grinned and shrugged. Hermione, also aware of what was going on, looked pointedly over at Ron. Ron suddenly stopped grinning and suddenly became very interested in studying the woodwork on the table.

Harry became confused, and a sort of worry seized him that was quite different from the worry that surrounded the prophecy. What was going on with his friends?

Focusing his attention over to the high table instead, he caught sight of Dumbledore, who gave him a small smile. Harry grinned back, and looked at the rest of the teachers. There was Snape, looking as mean and greasy as ever (not that Harry really expected him to take a shower over the summer); Professor Sinistra, talking with Professor Sprout; tiny Professor Flitwick, waving at some students; and…

Harry blinked. Could he be seeing correctly? Right next to Dumbledore, on the left side, sat Remus Lupin. Lupin, unlike most of the Order, had been mysteriously absent the entire summer on some unknown assignment. Harry gazed at him for a moment, dumbstruck, before elbowing Ron in the ribs.

“Ron! Look who it is! Lupin’s back!”

“What?” Ron asked, gazing at the top table also. His eyes fell on Lupin and his face lit up. “Brilliant! Better than that horrid Umbridge, I’d say. I wonder why he came back?”

“Probably to help keep an eye on the students,” Hermione said, staring at him also. “Dumbledore said there would be more security surrounding the school; Tonks and a bunch of Aurors are patrolling the entrances and corridors. It’ll be nice to have him back as a teacher, isn’t it, especially since he’s also part of the Order?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, now frowning. “But won’t parents be angry when they find out a werewolf got re-hired?”

Hermione shrugged. “Snape certainly is,” she said, gesturing to the high table. Snape was currently throwing Lupin a look of deep loathing. “But werewolf or not, he does know how to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts better than anyone. Now that Voldemort’s return is common knowledge, I think people are more willing to trust Dumbledore’s staffing decisions.” Hermione gave Harry and Ron a satisfied smile. “I mean, they know both of you were telling the truth now, Harry.” 

Curious to see if anybody else had noticed this, he gazed down the table and saw that Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, and Parvati were all whispering excitedly. Ginny, however, was too busy glaring at Dean and Lavender, and did not notice. But she was the exception. To Harry’s surprise, the whole Hall seemed to be buzzing and pointing up at Lupin.

It didn’t take long for Lupin to spot Harry, and as he did he raised his hand in a tiny wave. Harry returned the wave before shifting his gaze back to Dumbledore. He wished they would hurry up and get the Sorting over with.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait, because at that moment McGonagall burst through the doors with a long line of first years trailing frightfully behind her, carrying the sorting hat and a stool. The sorting ceremony quickly began, and Harry watched impatiently as Gryffindor gained five new students. To Harry’s relief, it was a quick Sorting ceremony. After it was over Dumbledore stood up, and the Great Hall immediately quieted down.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, the sure sign that an impending speech was soon to be made. Sure enough, he started with “Welcome back, everyone, to another year at Hogwarts.” He paused while some students let out random whoops and cheers, and then pressed on. “I have a few very important announcements, and I pray that you will bear with me until I am through. We have two additions to our school this year, the first being someone whom most of you will recognize. Please allow me to welcome back Professor Lupin, who is taking over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.”

Everybody burst into applause. Well, everyone except the Slytherins. Malfoy had a look of disgust on his face, and Snape looked as if his best friend had died. When the applause died down, Dumbledore spoke again.

“Secondly, we will have a new sixth-year student joining us,” he announced.

The hall started buzzing again, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a confused look. New student? There had never been a new, older student at Hogwarts before. Everyone, as far as Harry knew, had started out as a first-year. What was all this about?

Harry had no further time to ponder, because Dumbledore continued with, “Her name is Elle Levine, and she is arriving here from the Los Angeles Academy of Magic, in California. I hope you will all do your best to make her feel welcome.” At that moment, Dumbledore looked behind him. “Ah, here she is now,” he said, smiling at the girl who had just walked in.

Harry suddenly sat up straight in his seat, his excitement about Lupin long forgotten. It was HER. The girl he had seen just a few weeks ago in his neighbor’s front yard. He couldn’t believe that she was actually here. At Hogwarts.

Elbowing Ron once again, and trying not to sound too excited, he exclaimed, “Ron, that’s her! The girl I told you about!”

“You mean the one you were dreaming about all summer?” Ron asked, grinning. “As if you thought we wouldn’t notice.” 

Harry ignored him. He was too busy staring up at her as she greeted Dumbledore with an equally warm smile. “I had no idea she would be coming here,” he said slowly, half to himself. I should have introduced myself, he thought furiously. 

Hermione looked up at the girl as well, and tilted her head in thought. “I wonder why she transferred here?” she asked curiously. “I mean, students are allowed to transfer to different Wizarding schools, but it’s not very common.” 

Harry had no answer to this. He watched as Elle stood in front of Dumbledore and gazed around the room. Though she seemed a little stiff and unsure, she wore a friendly expression and distributed an air of composed confidence. 

Harry had forgotten how pretty she was. Tonight she was wearing black Hogwarts robes, but Harry couldn’t help remembering her initial ensemble of a blue string bikini. Her face was soft and her long hair was up in ponytail. Her emerald eyes were as bright as ever. Harry must have had a strange look on his face, because Ron and Hermione were giggling at him.

“Okay, okay, enough,” he said good-naturedly, pulling himself together.

It was then that suddenly, for no reason at all, Elle looked over at Harry, and they made eye contact. For a split-second, Harry felt strange, as though the floor had all of a sudden disappeared, and he was floating on air. But then, Dumbledore spoke up again, and Elle looked away. The strange feeling vanished.

“Since our new student needs to be Sorted, we will let her proceed.”

Dumbledore pointed her in the direction of the Sorting Hat, and she sat down on the stool, putting the hat over her head. It sank right down over her eyes, as it had done for many of the first years, and a few people in the Hall snickered. It was very interesting to see an older girl try on the hat. 

Elle, unaware to the way people were laughing at her, sat there until the hat loudly called out, “Gryffindor!”

It took Harry a moment to realize that this strange, fascinating new girl would be joining his house, but when the thought dawned on him he felt positively ecstatic. The people around him burst into applause as Elle happily made her way over to the Gryffindor table. Harry could see now that most of the males appeared very taken with her, and even Malfoy had a frozen sort of look on his face from his position on the other side of the hall.

Dumbledore smiled again and said happily, “Well, now that our new student has been Sorted, let the feast begin!”

Mouth-watering dishes of every shape and size appeared suddenly on their plates, and everybody dug in. But Harry could barely concentrate on getting his food into his mouth; all he could think about was the new girl, and how for some strange reason he wanted to talk to her. There was so much he wanted to find out- she was definitely like no girl he had ever seen before.

When the feast was finally over, Dumbledore dismissed them and all the students walked back to their common rooms. Harry tried to get near Elle as they walked towards the Gryffindor Tower, but it was turning out to be very difficult. She was surrounded by students, and was very bubbly as she chatted with everyone, answering questions Harry was unable to hear. Harry’s curiosity increased, but he kept his distance, and instead hung back with Ron and Hermione.

When they got to their common room, most of the girls went straight to their dormitories, and the boys to theirs. Hermione said goodnight, and took off up the girl’s staircase, followed closely by Elle and her group of followers. 

Up in the boy’s dormitory, Harry said goodnight to Ron. He turned over in his bed, fully intending to get some sleep, but when he closed his eyes all he thought about was Elle. He had no idea why this new girl seemed to be taking over his mind, but promised himself that tomorrow he would talk to her.

And for the first night in a long time, the pain of missing Sirius, combined with worry over the Prophecy, seemed to lessen slightly.


	5. First Impressions

The next morning, Harry woke up early and looked around the room. Everybody else was still asleep. After he put on his robes, he went in front of the mirror to try to manage with his hair, but it was uncontrollable as always, and after a while Harry just gave up. He went downstairs to wait for Ron and Hermione, but he was also foolishly hoping for an early glimpse of Elle. He remembered his promise that he would talk to her today, and thought fleetingly of the problem he had of talking to girls he liked. _Not that I like her,_ he insisted silently. _I don’t even know her._  
  
The common room began to fill up with Gryffindors chattering about their first day of classes. Finally, Ron and Hermione showed up, and the three of them went to breakfast. They sat down at the table and had just started loading up their plates with eggs and bacon when Dean and Seamus walked in, hand in hand with Lavender and Parvati.  
  
Just then, Ginny walked in, with Neville right behind her. Neville grabbed the seat at the end of the table, not wanting to be caught in the same awkward position as last night, and the only seat left was, unfortunately, right across from Dean. Ginny sighed in resignation and sat down across from him.  
  
“Hey Ginny,” Dean smiled at her, trying to be friendly. “How’ve you been?”  
  
Ginny stared at him frostily. “Fine,” she replied, her tone as cool as ice. She looked in Lavender’s direction and raised her eyebrows.  
  
Dean gulped and hastily shifted his gaze. “Come on, let’s get going,” he muttered to Lavender, gathering up their schedules that they had just received from McGonagall and walking away, Dean carrying Lavender’s bag in a gentlemanly fashion. Ron shook his head and grabbed three schedules as well, handing them out to Harry and Hermione.  
  
“Damn, we have Double Potions with the Slytherins first,” he announced angrily, examining his schedule with an ugly look. Harry sighed and observed his own agenda for the day.  
  
“Great, and after that it’s Divination,” he said unhappily.  
  
Hermione gazed down at hers as well. “Yes, but look on the bright side,” she said. “Our first class of the afternoon is Defense Against the Dark Arts. We’ll get to see Lupin!”  
  
Ron and Harry cheered up at this and started to head out of the Great Hall. Taking one last look around, Harry still didn’t see Elle, but instantly felt like giving himself a smack in the head. _What was wrong with him?_  
  
Ron, who seemed to have read his mind, gave a little shrug. Hermione appeared to know what he was thinking too, because she said, “I don’t know where the new girl is. She shares a dormitory with me, and was still sleeping when I came down.”  
  
Harry shrugged, trying to look as if he didn’t really care, and silently headed down to the dungeons with his friends. The three of them walked in the Potions classroom and headed straight to the seats at the very back of the class. Once the rest of the class filed in and everyone was seated, Snape strode through the doors and started the lesson in the dramatic manner that he was accustomed to.  
  
“I welcome each of you to my NEWT Potions class,” he began, not sounding very welcoming at all. “Some of you deserve to be here, some of you don’t.” He paused, and his eyes flickered in Harry’s direction. Harry groaned inwardly. He had been happy with the OWLs he had received over the summer, but that did not mean he was happy about seeing Snape again for a whole year. However, this did mean he was on track for a career as an Auror, and for that he was immensely grateful.  
  
“Nonetheless, to whip your vacant minds back into shape after the summer holidays, I have arranged a simple shrinking solution for you to prepare. You may work in groups of three, and have until the end of the period, in which time the potion should be complete. I’ll expect it to be brought up to my desk for testing. Good luck.” He rapped the board sharply with his wand, and as usual the complex and utterly aggravating instructions appeared.  
  
The trio shared equally mournful looks before setting to work, knowing full well that the entire class period would be long and especially grueling. Harry was just about to add the first ingredient, when someone entered the classroom. Harry almost spilled his ingredients when he heard who it was.  
  
It was Elle. She ran towards Professor Snape and stood there awhile, gasping for breath. Her cheeks were flushed, and it looked as if she had run all the way from Gryffindor tower down to the dungeons. Harry suddenly feared that she might be the smug, stuck-up type. Who else would have the nerve to show up to class, especially Snape’s class, ten minutes late?  
  
“I’m so sorry!” she finally exclaimed, still out of breath. The class was dead silent, waiting for the explosion.  
  
“I got lost, this castle is enormous, and then I ran into this horrid poltergeist…but I promise this will never happen again!” she carried on, oblivious to the rest of the class and their apparent apprehension and excitement as to what Snape was about to do to this poor, ignorant little new girl.  
  
Snape looked her up and down, disbelief written all over his sallow, twisted face. The whole class held their breath and stared; half of the students were horrorstruck, but the other half seemed on the verge of laughter.

Elle was looking at Snape with a pleading, pathetic look on her face, and she gave a small smile. Obviously, Harry thought, this girl had no idea what kind of teacher she was dealing with. He was proven right when Elle looked up and caught Snape’s expression. Her smile vanished.  
  
“I really am sorry, Sir,” she said as she gazed down at the floor, biting her lip nervously.  
  
Snape set his jaw and stood up straight, trying to intimidate Elle as much as he could. The problem was, she was still looking at the ground.  
  
“Be that as it may, Miss Levine, tardiness is unacceptable in my class,” he answered darkly, his words drenched with toxic annoyance. He waited till she looked up at him again, and then said, “You should have asked another student for directions. Twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor.”  
  
Elle didn’t give any reply at all. She seemed confused, as if she had no idea what her tardiness had to do with points, and simply stood and stared at her displeased professor. Harry had to laugh. Snape’s forced intimidation was failing miserably, and Harry was actually kind of proud of this girl for not cowering helplessly at the evil gleam in his eye.  
  
Snape’s annoyance seemed to be escalating quickly to rage, and he continued with a sneer. “Next time it will be fifty points, and a detention. You will find that rule-breakers at this school are not pleasantly rewarded.”  
  
Elle nodded to show that she understood. Snape glared at her. “You may take your seat,” he growled with menace.  
  
Elle turned around and walked towards the table right in front of Harry, where Lavender and Parvati were currently working. They both turned away and shifted in their seats, as though pretending they couldn’t see her. Elle stopped, tilted her head in confusion, and put her bag down instead at a table with Neville and Ernie MacMillan. Without saying a word to either of them, she looked up at the board and slowly started to work on preparing her potion.

Harry couldn’t believe that she had gotten off so easy. He, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, but were able to do little else than stare at each other questioningly until the class was over and they were free to talk.  
  
After they had finished their potion and class time had come to an end, everyone dropped off their sample flasks at Snape’s desk and hightailed it out of there. Harry tried to find Elle as he re-entered the darkened corridor, but once again she seemed to have disappeared.  
  
“Wow, that girl’s fast,” Ron said, sensing Harry’s frustration.  
  
“Yeah,” said Harry, a little regretfully. Oh well, he still had all afternoon. There was no need to rush the inevitable let down that was sure to follow their horrendous introduction.  
  
“Well I better get going, I’ve got Arithmancy next,” Hermione said, and she took off as well. “I’ll see you at lunch!” she called over her shoulder.  


* * *

 

  
Harry and Ron sat through a horrendous two hours in Divination, which was not punctured by a tardy outburst…Elle didn’t seem to be signed up for this class, and therefore was not present. After class, they went down to lunch and met up with Hermione, but Harry was set on eating quickly. He was waiting for something, and when a flicker of blonde hair caught his eye, he hastily excused himself from the table.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” he muttered to Ron and Hermione, before running to the set of doors leading out into the entrance hall. By a stroke of luck, he got there before Elle, and was just in time to casually open the door for her as she walked towards him. _Smooth._  
  
“Thanks,” she said gratefully, looking up at him and smiling.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he replied, trying to make his voice sound deeper and more mature. “Uh, hi. I’m Harry,” he clarified, already feeling foolish but forcing himself to hold out his hand.   
  
Whether it was out of politeness or ignorance, Elle did not immediately take to staring at his forehead when Harry announced his name, and instead held out her hand as well.  
  
“I’m Elle,” she replied, shaking his hand with a rather firm grip. They let go, and then there was an awkward silence.  
  
Elle cleared her throat noisily. “So, you’re a sixth year too?”  
  
“Yeah,” Harry replied, but then he noticed Elle’s cheeks were getting red.  
  
“Sorry,” she said, laughing at herself a little. “That’s probably a stupid question. I mean, of course you’re a sixth year. Everyone knows you…” she stopped, and shut her mouth with an apologetic grin.  
  
Harry laughed. “It’s okay,” he said hurriedly. “I, uh, I’ve seen you over the summer. I think you live next door to my aunt and uncle’s house. I stay with them during the break, and kind of…saw you outside a couple of times.”  _Great, and now I sound like a stalker_ , he thought bitterly.  
  
“Really?” Elle asked. “I live with my aunt and uncle too. I just moved from California, so that I could live with them and start school here.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that it was by choice or anything, believe me. If I could have it my way…” she stopped and started blushing again. “I mean, it’s great being here and all, I didn’t mean for it to sound like I hate the school or anything, but…” She sighed, and laughed at herself. “Sorry,” she repeated. “I’m blabbering, but I swear I’m not crazy.”  
  
Harry kind of doubted this, but grinned. “That’s okay,” he said, already wondering what he had gotten himself into. He wondered briefly what had happened to her parents, but found it just a tad bit rude to ask. So he settled on, “What do you think of Hogwarts so far?”  
  
He cursed himself for not being able to think of anything more interesting to say, but it was just as well, because at that very moment his schoolbag split in half, spilling all his books and quills onto the floor. Wishing he could drop dead from embarrassment, Harry bent down to pick them up.  
  
“Oh here, let me help you,” Elle offered. She leaned down to provide assistance, but ended up accidentally knocking over his inkbottle. Ink went everywhere.  
  
“Oh, I’m really sorry!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know why I’m so clumsy, I honestly don’t know what’s come over me.”  
  
“It’s okay, it happens all the time,” Harry reassured her.

Elle smiled at him. He smiled back.  
  
The bell was about ring, and Harry couldn’t show up for class with a split bag and no ink. He was about to tell Elle to just go on ahead, when she stood up and faced him.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up myself,” he began, but Elle put a hand on his shoulder to stop him before he could bend down again. Harry’s shoulder immediately prickled with warmth.  
  
“Hold on,” she said. Making sure no one else was within earshot, she cleared her throat and stared intently at the mess on the ground. She placed her other hand on Harry’s bag and whispered, “Reparo!”  
  
The inkbottle instantly jumped back into place, full with fresh new ink, and Harry’s bag immediately repaired itself. It looked good as new. Harry stared at her in astonishment.  
  
“How did you do that?” he asked.  
  
“Magic,” she replied, grinning.  
  
“No, I mean how did you do that without a wand?”  
  
Elle shrugged. “This is going to sound weird, but I can sort of…do magic without using a wand. Wandless magic, if you want to call it that. In America, they call it telekinesis.”  
  
Harry gave her a look. “Wandless magic? Are you serious?”  
  
Elle smiled ruefully. “I told you it was going to sound stupid, but I’ve been able to do it for as long as I can remember. My mother taught me.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that. The whole school will probably find out now.”  
  
Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he assured her. “I think it’s cool.”  
  
“Really?” Elle asked, visibly relaxing. “I still have a wand of course…I just don’t always have to use it.”  
  
“Actually,” Harry replied, “I was more afraid you were going to be a snob.”  
  
After it came out he instantly regretted saying it, but Elle simply laughed. “Well, I thought you were going to be an arrogant, brooding hero,” she teased.

Harry raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. “And I’m not?”  
  
The bell rang, and both of them jumped at the interruption. Students began filing out of the Great Hall, on their way to their afternoon classes, but Harry still stood there staring at Elle.  
  
Elle smiled again and said, “Well, it was nice meeting you Harry. Be careful with the bag. And uh, do you think we could keep the wandless magic thing between us?”  
  
“Of course,” Harry said, wondering why she had decided to trust him. She seemed to be wondering this too. 

“I think a part of me just wanted to impress you,” she admitted, smiling. She said this completely without shame.

Harry laughed, trying to cover up his own embarrassment. “You know I’m not really a hero, right?”

“We’ll see,” Elle smiled. “I’ll see you in class.”  She spun around and took off up the corridor.  
  
Moving slowly after her, he started towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and tried not to think about how badly he had humiliated himself. It took him longer than usual to stop grinning that day.


	6. Second Chances

The afternoon classes passed quickly, and before Harry knew it he was finishing up dinner and heading back to the common room with Ron and Hermione. They were the first to arrive, and so were able to snag the best seats by the fire.

Soon, everyone else piled into the room, and the air was filled with people laughing, joking, and genuinely rejoicing in being back at Hogwarts. Harry sighed with content as he leaned back in the armchair and sat still for a moment, letting the warmth from the flames tickle his face.  
  
Of course, it wasn’t long before he noticed Elle climb into the room. She was talking to some other girls, but Harry still turned away quickly, not wanting her to notice him staring.  
  
Ron and Hermione must have caught him zoning out again, because they exchanged knowing looks. Ron grinned and said, “Did you ever talk to the new girl, Harry? You disappeared pretty quick after lunch.”  
  
Before Harry could answer, Hermione rolled her eyes and said, “Oh for heaven’s sake, Ron. She has a name, and she’s really nice.”  
  
Harry stared at Hermione. “Have YOU talked to her?” he asked skeptically.  
  
“Yes, she’s in my Arithmancy class,” Hermione informed him. “Sits right next to me, in fact.”  
  
Harry couldn’t believe Hermione hadn’t told him this yet. “Did you mention me?” he asked.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes again. “Yes Harry, we discussed you and only you for the entire class,” she teased.  
  
Harry sighed and sat back in his chair. Hermione frowned.  
  
“Why, what happened when you spoke to her?” she inquired. When he didn’t respond, she narrowed her eyes. “You _did_ talk to her, didn’t you? I don’t know what you think will happen if you keep putting it off…”  
  
Harry braced himself, and then reluctantly told his friends the whole story about him going up to her and having his bag split right in the middle of what was hopefully going to be a semi-normal conversation. When he was done both Ron and Hermione looked highly amused.  
  
“It’s not funny!” Harry protested in frustration. “This is sad and pathetic! I practically called her a snob! I mean it’s just some girl, it’s not like this is a big deal…”  
  
Ron snorted, and Hermione bit her lip. “Of course it’s not,” she said, giving Ron a piercing stare. Ron tried to control himself, but couldn’t help it.  
  
“Bad luck, mate,” he said.  
  
Of course, it had to be that moment that Elle stood up from across the room and looked over in their direction.

“Hi Hermione!” she called, smiling.  
  
Hermione sneaked a quick look at Harry and grinned. “Hi Elle!” she called back. “Come on over,” she added, ignoring the slashing movements Harry was making across his throat.  
  
Elle came over to where the three of them were sitting. She spotted Harry and gave him a small sign of recognition. 

“Hi Harry,” she said, her eyes twinkling.  
  
“Hey,” said Harry. He felt warmth creeping through him that he suspected had nothing to do with the fire.  
  
Ron straightened up. “I’m Ron,” he said enthusiastically, rising a little from his chair.   
  
“Nice to meet you Ron,” Elle said, but her eyes held a unique glimmer, and Harry was sure Hermione had already filled her in about both Ron and himself. “Hermione’s told me a lot about you two. I have two best friends also,” she said wistfully. “But they’re back in California. Hermione’s the first friend I’ve made here so far. I think I would’ve been miserable today if it hadn’t been for her.”  
  
Hermione smiled at her kindly. "It was nice making a new friend," she said warmly. “I guess we should head upstairs now, it's getting a bit late…Professor Sinistra promised us lots of homework this year.”  
  
The girls began to make their way towards the dormitories, but Harry didn’t notice his foot sticking out until it was too late. Elle tripped over him, and Harry momentarily went into a state of shock. How could he manage to embarrass himself twice in one day?  
  
“I’m sorry…” he started to say, but Elle turned around and stared at him.   
  
“You did that on purpose, Potter,” she accused playfully.   
  
Before Harry had a chance to defend himself, Elle’s eyes widened and she said, “Wait a minute, I think I remember you.”  
  
Harry was confused, until she said, “Weren’t you the one who bumped into me last night after getting off the train?”  
  
He was just about to inform her that it was an accident, when she added, “It wasn’t my fault, you know. There’s just something about you that makes me clumsy. You don’t have to take revenge.”  
  
Harry realized that she was kidding and found himself grinning. Hermione and Ron looked back and forth between them, utterly confused.  
  
“Well, I hate to say this, but you bumped into the wrong person. I’d watch your back if I was you,” Elle said casually, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Harry couldn't help noticing that she tended to bite her lip and play with her hair a lot. Then he decided that maybe he shouldn't be noticing these things.   
  
“Is that a threat?” Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
She grinned too, and Harry could see tiny dimples form in her cheeks.  
  
“Could be,” she considered. “See you around.” She and Hermione ran away up the stairs, Hermione throwing a wink back at Harry as she traipsed after Elle.  
  
Harry didn’t know what had just happened. When he looked up to ask Ron’s opinion, he saw that his friend was laughing at him. Harry knew the perfect way to change the subject.  
  
“So,” Harry said casually. “What’s going on with you and Hermione?”  
  
It worked. The smile on Ron’s face vanished, and he choked out, “What do you mean?” He tried and failed to make it seem like he didn’t know what Harry was talking about.  
  
“Oh, come off it,” Harry said slyly. “I know something’s up. You turn red every time you look at her, which has got to be a thousand times a day, at least.”  
  
Ron blinked. “Are you trying to say that I like her?” he spat out.  
  
“Obviously,” Harry confirmed. “In fact, it’s been kind of obvious for years now.”  
  
Ron shifted in his seat and looked away, stalling for time.  
  
“Well?” Harry asked, getting impatient.  
  
“Alright, maybe I like her a little,” Ron said, the tips of his ears burning. It was now Harry’s turn to laugh, and Ron smiled guiltily. “I bet she doesn’t like me though,” he sighed.  
  
“Nah, of course she does,” Harry objected. “She just has her own way of showing it. But trust me on this- don’t blow it, Ron.”  
  
“You really think so?” Ron asked, grinning stupidly. Then he laughed. “Well mate, it looks as though we might be following Dean and Seamus’ example after all.”  
  
Harry looked up towards the girl’s dormitories. Who knew what the two of them were talking about in there. What he wouldn’t give for a nice pair of Extendable Ears right now...  
  
“Let’s go to bed,” he said to Ron, getting up and heading for the boy’s staircase.  
  
Harry got in to bed and yanked the hangings shut, enclosing himself in solitude for the first time that day. He realized that ever since Elle had come along, he hadn’t thought about Sirius or the prophecy once. She definitely dominated his mind, that was for sure. There was something about Elle that intrigued him…something that he couldn’t help or explain. And she was just so…different.  
  
He let out a deep breath. He had no clue what it was he liked so much about Elle, but then again, he was often clueless when it came to girls.


	7. The War Begins

The next morning showed Harry already falling into his usual routine of going to down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione. The first thing he did when he sat down at the table was look for Elle, but he didn’t see her anywhere. Supposing that she must be having a lie-in again, he turned to his right and saw that Ron was sitting next to him. Now, this wasn’t unusual of course, but when he looked to his left and saw Hermione sitting on his other side, something in his brain clicked.  
  
Harry noticed that Hermione’s hair looked different today. It was done up all nice and sleek. He had never seen her this conscious about her appearance since the Yule Ball. He had a tiny feeling that Elle’s arrival might have had something to do with Hermione’s unexpected makeover.  
  
Harry nudged Ron, who immediately jumped and gave Harry a look. Harry nodded his head towards Hermione. “Ron, would you like to switch seats?”  
  
Ron stared at Harry dumbly for a few seconds, and then seemed to come to his senses. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed in a small, offhand voice.  
  
Harry and Ron swapped seats, and a second later Ron was sitting in Harry’s place next to Hermione. Harry pretended to sigh with relief. “Thanks,” he said. “Sitting on the end is better. You know how I hate feeling claustrophobic.”  
  
Ron gave him a warning look, as if to tell him not to push it, but Harry only grinned in satisfaction. Hermione looked at them suspiciously, but didn’t say anything. They were silent for a few seconds before Harry nudged Ron again, and this time Ron gave him a dirty look.  
  
“What?” he hissed, annoyed.  
  
“Tell her she looks nice,” Harry advised wisely, buttering a piece of toast.  
  
Ron glared at Harry. "You know, you don't make a very good wingman," he told his friend wryly.  
  
"What was that, Ron?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ron cleared his throat and turned towards Hermione. “Um…you look very, er…nice today, Hermione,” he murmured.   
  
Hermione looked both shocked and delighted, and her face burned crimson. “Thank you, Ron,” she said, sounding very dignified.  
  
Harry coughed, masking his laughter. Ron glared at him. Harry decided it was best to shut up for the moment, but still resorted to grinning in a very irritating fashion. The three of them continued to eat their breakfast normally until the mail arrived, when Harry spotted Hedwig and made room for her on the table.  
  
The owl landed gracefully and delivered her letter to Harry. Harry gave her a friendly pat, and she hooted affectionately before dipping her beak into his goblet for a drink and flying off. Harry tore open the letter.  
  
 _Dear Mr. Potter,  
I am pleased to inform you that you have been appointed Quidditch Captain for this year. Tryouts for new team members will be held next Monday. I congratulate you, and wish Gryffindor team the best of luck._  
  
 _Professor M. McGonagall_  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
“Hey, congratulations mate!” Ron said excitedly, reading over his solider. “Quidditch captain!”  
  
“Well done,” said Hermione, beaming at him.  
  
Harry nodded in amazement. Being chosen as a Quidditch captain was a huge honor, and he couldn’t believe that he had gotten it.  
  
“I hope some good people turn out for tryouts,” Ron said, helping himself to a forkful of eggs. “I mean, since Fred and George left we’re going to need some good beaters, not to mention three new chasers.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Harry, feeling a bit overwhelmed. The pressure to put together an excellent team was intense. And then there was the matter of Ron’s confidence at tryouts…

Harry sighed, decided to put it out of his mind for now. He looked around again for Elle, but still couldn’t spot her.

* * *

Elle woke up with a start, and quickly looked around. The girl’s dormitory was empty. Elle looked at her watch and gave a small yelp- she had slept in again, and her first class would be starting in just a few minutes. Assuming she could find the classroom on the first try, she would still be late, and she would lose more points for Gryffindor. She knew two of her dormmates, Lavender and Parvati, already disliked her for losing them points. If only she had woken up on time and gone down to breakfast with Hermione; Hermione was the first person, aside from Harry, who had shown her kindness…even though Elle had been trying her hardest to fit in.

Elle quickly dressed in her robes, grabbed her bag, and walked downstairs. She was still getting used to boarding school life- she missed waking up in her own bed, dressing in her own clothes, and catching a ride with her friends to school. However, even she had to admit- as intimidating as it was, Hogwarts was magical.

Elle stopped before she reached the portrait hole- the common room was empty aside from a few seventh years, who had a free period to study. She looked toward the stairs of the boy’s dormitory- maybe Harry was in there, and he could show her where to go? She was cutting it pretty close, but her curiosity got the better of her. Feeling slightly mischievous, she glanced around to make sure no one noticed her, and then climbed the stairs.

She knocked on the door, and after receiving no response, pushed it open slightly. She hadn’t really expected Harry, or his friend Ron, to still be here- nevertheless, she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. The boy’s dormitory was identical to the girl’s dorms, except the beds were a lot messier, and the decorations on the walls were less sparse. She grinned at the poster of the West Ham soccer team pinned above one boy’s bed, and tried to figure out which one was Harry’s. She felt slightly embarrassed for snooping, but then again, she _was_ only looking. 

Elle quickly located a bed with books on it, and saw the name _Harry Potter_ on the cover of one. She sat down on the edge of the bed, and picked up the book, brushing her hand over it. She closed her eyes, still hardly daring to believe that she was actually here, at Hogwarts, going to class with the boy she had learned about back in California. It was surreal.

Suddenly realizing how weird this was, Elle quickly stood up and dropped the book onto the floor. She was definitely going to be late for class now. However, as she went to retrieve the book and replace it on the bed, something else caught her eye- it was a photo album, lying on top of a trunk that hadn’t yet been unpacked for the school year. 

Elle looked at the moving images curiously, picking up the album and flipping through the pages. She saw a small, black-haired baby waving from the arms of a man and a woman- a man who looked just like Harry, and a pretty woman with green eyes. Elle sucked in her breath. This must be photos of Harry’s family…and they must be very private.

A hot flush crept up the back of Elle’s neck. She _really_ shouldn’t be here. Anxious thoughts filled her head about what would happen if anyone knew she was sneaking around the boy’s dormitory, and touching Harry’s things. As soon as the flush reached her cheeks, Elle’s hands suddenly shook, and before she knew it, the photo album had turned blush pink.

Elle dropped the photo album onto the bed, crying out in shock. Her emotions had never caused her to perform accidental wandless magic before.

She brushed the sheets with her hands as she stood up, and those turned pink too. Overcome with surprise and embarrassment now, Elle grasped the bedspread, trying to control her thoughts and steady her shaking hands. Yet, it was no use- everything she touched turned pink. The walls, the curtains, the pillows- it looked horrendous. And to make matters worse, the pink was spreading from Harry’s bed to the rest of the boy’s dormitory. Soon, everything was covered in a garish shade of brightest pink.

Elle flexed her fingers and muttered some spells, trying to undo the damage. Nothing worked. It wasn’t like she was a master at wandless magic anyway, but now she had completely screwed up. Harry would be outraged and never speak to her again.

Unless…she pretended it had been done on purpose…

Being careful to use her wand this time, Elle decided to add a few bows and ribbons around the room. Now, it looked like the pink was meant to be there. It could all be written off as a prank. After their playful banter the night before, hopefully it wouldn’t look too suspicious.

Elle pocked her wand and left the boy’s dormitory without a backward glance. Hopefully, she would be able to calm her nerves on the way to Transfiguration.

* * *

Soon afterwards, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed for their first class of the day- Transfiguration. The three sat in the back row and took out parchment and quills, waiting in subdued anticipation. After McGonagall entered and class began, Harry spent a good fifteen minutes taking notes. As far as he could see, everyone was writing feverishly. It was apparent that McGonagall planned to make N.E.W.T. level classes as challenging as possible.   
  
Then, just like yesterday, the door opened and in strolled Elle- late. Harry (unlike the rest of the class) pretended not to stare.   
  
Elle went up to Professor McGonagall’s desk and whispered something to her. The class was silent for a few moments, until McGonagall drew herself up to her full height and faced Elle with a piercing gaze.

“Unacceptable,” she said. “This is the second morning in the row you’ve been tardy, Miss Levine. Professor Snape was told to make an exception for your first day; however, as your head of House, I cannot permit this to become a habit.”

Elle looked far more guilty and embarrassed than she had been in Potions. She bit her lip and looked up at McGonagall pleadingly. Harry saw that her hands were shaking.

“Please, Professor…I got lost…” 

“That is not an excuse,” McGonagall commanded, nostrils flaring. “I expect first years to get lost. You are sixteen years old, Miss Levine, and you were bright enough to get transferred into my N.E.W.T. class. I expect you have the brains to follow a simple map.”

Half the class was giggling now, and Parvati and Lavender were barely concealing their delight. Elle was bright red. 

McGonagall handed Elle a blank piece of parchment, and gestured toward the door. “You are excused from class today, Miss Levine. I’m afraid missing the first half of the lecture will hinder your performance during the rest of the lesson. Tardiness, in my eyes, is a way of showing you don’t care. You may use this time to study the location of every single classroom at Hogwarts, and if the tardiness continues, a discussion with the Headmaster will be in order.”

Elle took the parchment with trembling hands, nodded, and hitched her bag on her shoulder. Parvati giggled loudly, and McGonagall fixed her with a stern gaze as well.

“That’s enough, Miss Patil.” McGonagall gave Elle one last look. “I expect you back here tomorrow afternoon, on time,” she told her, a little more kindly.

Elle swallowed, and left the classroom.

After the lesson, Harry bolted from his seat as soon as the bell rang. He found Elle sitting in a corridor, with the parchment McGonagall had given her still in her hands. As Harry approached, Elle looked up at him. Her face was flushed.

“Are all the teachers here like that?” she asked miserably. “If you’re late, they’re just going to kick you out?”

Harry grimaced. “Yeah, and McGonagall is especially tough,” he explained. Elle groaned, and Harry gave her a sympathetic grin. “She’s alright though, you’ll see. One time I thought she was going to expel me, and she ended up making me a Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

Elle gave a small smile. “Really?” she asked incredulously.

Harry nodded. “I wouldn’t risk being late again to her class though, or to Snape’s. Lupin is fair, but something tells me he won’t tolerate tardiness either. There are a few shortcuts around the castle, I can show them to you sometime.”

Elle grinned gratefully. “That would be great. Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.”

They still had a few minutes until History of Magic, so Harry sat down next to her on the floor. Students rushed past them, some casting the pair odd looks, but Harry ignored them. “Why were you late today, anyway?” he asked.

Elle looked down. “I can’t really tell you,” she said quietly. “You’ll find out later. I wish I could’ve brought my alarm clock and radio from home, but Hermione said they wouldn’t work here.”

Harry decided not to push the matter, and they continued to chat for the rest of the break, bantering over things such as muggle devices and how useless Harry considered them to be, as opposed to Elle’s desperate need for electronics and music.

When the bell rang, they gathered up their things, and Harry caught a glimpse of Elle’s previously blank piece of parchment. Drawn on it, with surprising detail, was a perfect map of Hogwarts with all the classrooms labelled. Harry grinned, knowing how committed Elle must be to never getting lost again.

* * *

 

It was a very uneventful afternoon. They spent the day in Charms reviewing, and in Herbology they took notes on Snargaluff Pods. Elle whispered something to Hermione while they were packing up in the greenhouses, and they sprinted off as soon as class let out, leaving the boys to themselves once again. Harry was intensely curious. _What was going on?_  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances, and at once decided to follow the girls back to Gryffindor Tower instead of heading down to dinner with everyone else. They reached the common room, but when they found it deserted, Harry offered to drop his and Ron’s bags off in their dormitory before searching the entire castle for Elle and Hermione.  
  
Well, the scene Harry was greeted with when he reached the boy’s dormitory was more than enough to make up for his boring afternoon. Instead of being greeted by their usual surroundings, Harry’s vision was suddenly blinded by the color pink. An atrocious, bright, stinging shade of pink.  
  
“RON!” he shouted, his voice loud enough to echo throughout all of Hogsmeade. Ron came running up the stairs, but slid to a halt when he reached the doorway.  
  
“What the…?” he asked, his face full of shock and disgust.  
  
Somebody had turned all of the sheets pink, as well as the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Cabinets and chests of drawers were transformed to resemble frilly, lace-covered wardrobes, and absolutely everything was either adorned with a bow or scattered with magenta sparkles. He looked down at his trunk and picked up the photo album Hagrid had given him- this too had turned pink.   
  
“Elle did this,” Harry said, finally snapping to his senses. “She was late this morning, and couldn’t tell me why. Do you reckon this is her idea of a prank?”

Ron closed his mouth and swallowed, his face pale and sickly.  
  
“Harry…our room…it’s pink,” he replied shakily, as if he hadn’t heard him. Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
“Come on, we’ve got to go do something,” he exclaimed, throwing down his schoolbag and dashing out of the room. Ron came running right behind him, but there wasn’t a need to go so fast, because when they reached the common room they found Elle and Hermione sitting there. Elle’s face was surprisingly blank. Hermione looked anxious.  
  
Harry was surprised at how annoyed he felt. “You did this?” he asked Elle. He didn’t know what else to say.   
  
Elle stood up and grinned. Harry realized just then that she was about a foot shorter than him.   
  
“Yes,” she said calmly.  
  
“What have you done to our room? You mutilated it! And you ruined my photo album, you…you shouldn’t have touched that!”  
  
Elle laughed. Harry felt his face getting hot. He knew he ought to lighten up…. hadn’t he been desperate for her attention all day? But then again, this was not the type of attention he had imagined.  
  
“I think mutilate is going a little too far,” she said. “I gave it a feminine touch, that’s all.”  
  
Her grin was slightly infuriating. What gave this new girl the right to go into his room and ruin his most treasured possession?

Hermione looked up at Harry with a guilty look in her eyes. It was obvious she hadn’t expected him to get this upset. Elle caught Harry’s sudden glare and quickly said, “It was all my idea.”

Hermione muttered to Harry out of the corner of her mouth, “I _did_ try to fix it.”   
  
Harry’s emotions were conflicting in a way that he had never felt before; how could he get so mad at someone that he was also beginning to like?  
  
Elle eyed him as he was going through this painful thought process, and took it upon herself to slowly whisper in his ear, “I told you to watch your back.”

She was still smiling, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to smile back. This meant war.  
  
“Fine,” he said, more coldly than he had meant to sound. Ron and Hermione were staring at them with suspended anticipation, their faces etched with apprehension.

Harry chose not to look at them, and instead said to Elle, “If that’s the way you want it, have it your way. But now, it’s your turn to watch YOUR back.”  
  
“We’ll see,” Elle said mischievously. “Have a nice dinner.”  
  
She and Hermione exited through the portrait hole; Hermione gave Harry a grimace as she passed him, shaking her head in disapproval. Harry wanted to throw a nasty retort toward Elle about getting lost on her way to the Great Hall, but he and Ron grudgingly trudged up the stairs to try and figure out a way of ridding the room of pink before Dean, Seamus, and Neville came back. They wouldn’t be happy, and Harry was in no mood to explain what had caused this frilly, sparkly infestation. And yet, none of their more personal items had been tampered with.

* * *

 

“Do you think Harry was really mad about the photo album?” Elle asked Hermione at dinner, playing with her food.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “Well…” she began hesitantly. “I don’t think he’s that upset, to be honest. But you shouldn’t have been snooping. Why don’t you tell him it was an accident?”

Elle shook her head vigorously. “No,” she said stubbornly. “I would die if he found out!” She gave Hermione a smile. “Thanks for having my back, though.”

Hermione grinned, and took a sip from her pumpkin juice. “Anytime,” she said slyly.

* * *

“Thanks for backing me up out there,” Harry said sarcastically to Ron, ripping a bow off of the bedpost and throwing it on the floor.

Ron shrugged. “Sorry, mate,” he said in exhaustion. “But I can’t tell the difference between when you’re flirting and when you’re having a temper tantrum. I figured it was best to keep quiet. Besides, I thought you liked her. Why did you get so mad?”  
  
When Harry didn’t answer, Ron continued. “At least now we have a chance to get back at her. Any ideas?”  
  
Harry sighed. “I don’t know. But whatever we come up with, it has to be good.” He turned around, facing Ron and looking at him intently.  
  
“I think it’s about time we send a letter to Fred and George.”


	8. Too Far

The very next day, Harry and Ron went straight to the owlery to send a letter to Fred and George, asking them their advice on what they could do to get back at Elle. Last evening, they had worked for hours trying to remove all the pink, lace and bows, but not before Dean, Seamus, and Neville had discovered the newly renovated room.

However, to their relief, the five of them had a good laugh, and together they were able to destroy all of the girly touches. Hermione even finally succeeded in restoring Harry’s photo album for him; she had looked as though she were about to say something in defense of Elle, but Harry wouldn’t hear it.

As soon as they were done, Harry and Ron agreed that it was a pretty good joke, but that it would take an even better joke in order to get even.  
  
A couple of days later, Harry and Ron arrived at breakfast and awaited the arrival of the mail. They were purposely avoiding Elle and Hermione, who were sitting together at the end of the table laughing and joking, as if they had been friends their whole lives. 

Harry shifted his attention away from Elle as he heard a flutter of wings and watched as hundreds of owls made their way into the Great Hall.  
  
Harry spotted Ron’s owl Pig right away, and they both made room as the little bird landed in front of them with a letter in its beak. Ron took the letter at once, and Pig gave a happy hoot before zooming off. Ron stared after him, shaking his head slightly, before turning his attention to the letter and ripping it open.  
  
 _Dear Harry (oh yeah, and our loving brother),  
Took you guys long enough to write. How’s Hogwarts getting on without us? Can’t say we don’t miss it. We’ve had tons of business already, and you wouldn’t believe the weirdos that come into the store…George even reckons he saw a vampire yesterday! (Very friendly chap actually, bought out our whole stock of Dainty Dentures). _

_Anyway, normally the two of us would be disinclined to give away the secrets of our success, but since we are so honored that you came to us, we’ve decided to take pity on you. Now ask yourself this: what is the main reason for pulling pranks on poor, unsuspecting victims? Fun? Of course not! Pranks are meant to make people laugh, plain and simple. It pains us to say this, but you don’t want to hurt anyone (unless it’s Umbridge or a Death Eater, of course)! However, for purposes of revenge, it’s okay to get her a little annoyed- to really get under her skin, so to speak._

_So think…what would annoy this girl the most? If you get clever and find out her pet peeves (speaking of which, it wouldn’t hurt asking Peeves for assistance), then you’re sure to get your revenge. So get on with it, and have a good time. Welcome to our world!_  
  
 _Sincerely  
The Prank Masters of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes_  
  
 _P.S.- We’re sending you some free samples of our joke supplies, in case you’re still stumped. (Just remember to let people know where you got them!) And by the way, who is this delightful young lady who turned your room pink?_  
  
 _P.P.S- Almost forgot…Harry, you’ve got your secret weapons!_  
  
Harry and Ron finished the letter and looked at each other, frowning in thought. What would be the thing that annoyed Elle the most? And how could they figure that out when they barely knew her in the first place?  
  
Harry sighed. “Well, we already know she’s a fan of pink…maybe decorating her room in black would send her into shock or something.”  
  
Ron laughed. “Nah, we have to think of something else. Girls are always obsessed with their looks…maybe we should do something that would mess up her hair, or her clothes…” he said thoughtfully.  
  
Harry considered this and glanced at the letter once more. “Get under her skin…” he muttered.   
  
“I’ve got it!” said Ron. “How about we enchant a bucket of ice water to fall on her head and place it over her dormitory door, drenching her before she leaves for class?”  
  
Harry stared at him, and Ron gave a guilty grin. “I saw Fred and George do that to Ginny once at the Burrow,” he admitted.  
  
Harry imagined the scenario. It was a pretty basic plan: simple, but brutal.  
  
“Okay…” he said slowly. “But how do we do that without being seen? And how do we get into the girl’s dormitories?” He was kind of uneasy as to how all this was supposed to take place, but he wasn’t about to give up, or resort to asking Peeves for help.  _Then_  they’d be in trouble.  
  
Ron, instead of answering, chose to reread the letter. “Harry, when they say ‘secret weapons’, do they mean…?”   
  
“The invisibility cloak and the marauder’s map,” he answered. “Now listen…we can wear the cloak to sneak down to the kitchens and get a bucket of ice water. The house elves will probably help us with that; then, we can enchant it so that the bucket will levitate above the girl’s dormitory door and won’t drop until somebody opens it. It’s a simple charm, Flitwick showed it to us once.”  
  
“Right,” Ron said, nodding. “But we’ll need a girl to help us.”  
  
“We can ask Dean if he’ll talk to Lavender and Parvati for us,” Harry suggested. “I don’t think they’ll mind; Hermione isn’t the best of friends with them.”  
  
Ron sighed. “We won’t be able to tell Hermione, will we?” he asked hastily.  
  
Harry shook his head. “Absolutely not. This has got to be just between us. Hermione would warn Elle for sure.”

 He checked quickly to make sure the girls weren’t listening, before muttering quietly, “We’ll do it tonight, so that way it’ll be ready by tomorrow morning. We can use the map to make sure the coast is clear.”  
  
Ron looked unsure for a second, but then his freckled face broke into a grin. “Let’s do it!”  
  
Harry laughed. At that second, Elle’s eyes latched on to his, and they both looked at each other from the opposite ends of the table. Elle smiled. Harry returned the smile and nodded.  
  
 _Game on._  
  


* * *

 

The day went as planned. After their morning classes, Ron and Harry snuck off to the kitchens while everyone else went to lunch. The house elves were happy to fetch Ron and Harry a large bucket of ice water without question. Using trick ice cubes from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Harry and Ron managed to enchant the water in the bucket to remain at a freezing temperature until the next morning, and so that no water would spill as Ron and Harry carried it.  
  
Before lunch ended, Harry threw the invisibility cloak over the bucket, and together he and Ron levitated it back to their dormitory, where they were hiding it until evening. Pleased with themselves, they made it back to the Great Hall just as the bell rang and bumped into Elle and Hermione.

Elle smiled brightly as she saw them, but Hermione narrowed her eyes.  
  
“Where were you two during lunch?” she asked, as if she knew they were up to something.  
  
Ron gulped, but Harry gave him a hard poke in the ribs.

“The library,” Ron spat out quickly.  
  
Harry sighed in relief, for Hermione seemed to accept this excuse and her expression immediately cleared.  
  
“Well, I’m glad to see that you two have decided to keep on track with your homework this year,” she said approvingly. Harry and Ron nodded, and the four of them headed off to their afternoon classes.  
  
During Care of Magical Creatures, Harry pulled Dean aside and filled him in on the plan. Since Dean had viewed the extent of Elle’s damage firsthand, he understood immediately. Normally, Harry would have felt guilty talking during this class, but Hagrid wasn’t there; over the summer he, like Lupin, had been sent on yet another secret mission for Dumbledore, and nobody knew when he was coming back. 

Harry hoped he would be back soon, but knew from last years’ experience that he needn’t worry about Hagrid. If anything, he was more worried about Grawp, who could be anywhere in the Forbidden Forest. In the meantime, he concentrated on persuading Dean to help him. Dean agreed, and called Lavender over. Lavender accepted the proposal right away.

“Parvati and I have something planned for little Miss show-off as well,” she whispered, sneaking a peek in Elle’s direction.

They arranged that all of them would pretend to go bed at a normal hour, and meet back up in the common room at one in the morning.  
  
During dinner, Ron and Harry acted very tired around Elle and Hermione, so that they would have an excuse for going to bed early. Hermione guessed that they had had a long day working hard on their homework, because they weren’t used to using their brains so strenuously. Instead of retorting, the boys just nodded, and after dinner they went straight to Gryffindor Tower and up to their dormitory. Once everyone else was asleep, Dean came to tell them that the coast was clear.  
  
Harry carried the freezing bucket down to the empty common room, and gathered together with Dean, Ron, and Lavender. Lavender took the bucket from him and levitated it over to the entrance of the girl’s dormitories. She took out her wand and the bucket hovered right over the entranceway, ready to collapse. Lavender came back down.  
  
“Okay,” she announced. “Mission accomplished. The bucket won’t tip till the last person opens the door. And with the way this girl’s been sleeping in all the time, she’s sure to be the last one out.”  
  
“Good job,” Harry said.  
  
“Yeah, thanks guys,” Ron echoed.  
  
“I have to ask though…why are you going through so much trouble to make her miserable?” Lavender asked Harry curiously. “I thought you liked her.”

When Harry stared at her in surprise, Lavender grinned. “It’s sort of the rumor going around.”  
  
Harry didn’t reply. He suddenly felt guilty, but brushed the feeling aside. _Remember the pink photo album,_ he reminded himself sternly. 

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” he told Lavender instead.   
  
Lavender and Dean went back to bed, but Ron pulled Harry aside.  
  
“Wait a second,” he said. “Don’t you think we’re being a little too rough on Elle? After all, we barely know her.”  
  
The guilt threatened to flare up, but again, Harry ignored it.

“Ron, did you see what she did to our room?” he asked. “She went through my personal belongings and almost ruined them! Trust me, she ought to get a taste of her own medicine.”  
  
“I know,” said Ron, walking ahead of Harry to the staircase. “But just a warning, this may not be the best way to win the girl’s affections.”

Harry gritted his teeth, suddenly wishing he could take everything back. If Ron was starting to give him advice on girls, then he was really in trouble.   
  


* * *

 

The next morning, Harry got up in a hurry and quickly dressed. He and Ron immediately left for breakfast, knowing that Elle would wake up late. Hermione was there waiting for them, and both boys were relieved to see that she appeared to suspect nothing. Elle’s tardiness was becoming the norm.   
  
The first fifteen minutes of breakfast was peaceful. Then came the explosion.  
  
The doors to the Great Hall crashed open with a loud bang, accompanied by fiery sparks. Everybody looked up from his or her plates, startled. Harry looked towards the double doors, knowing full well what he would find. Sure enough, Elle stormed in, soaked to the bone, shivering violently, and fuming with fury. The hall erupted in snickers.  
  
Lavender and Parvati gave each other high fives and giggled. The teachers looked down from their table to see what all the fuss was about. Hermione glared at Harry and made to get up, but not before Elle marched up to him.   
  
“ARE YOU INSANE?” she screamed, wiping her dripping hair away from her face, her teeth chattering. She was glowering down at Harry, who remained seated and relaxed. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? _WHAT_  MADE YOU DO THIS?”  
  
The Great Hall had become silent, and even the Slytherins bothered to look up to see what was going on. Elle continued to tremble, and Harry’s nonchalance seemed to only add to her fury.   
  
“My goodness, do all Americans shower with their clothes on?” Lavender asked loudly, sending the whole Gryffindor table into giggles.  
  
“At least we bother showering at all!” Elle shot back at her. Lavender glared.  
  
Harry laughed. “You were supposed to be watching your back,” he said, in the same mischievous tone she had used the other night. He took a large bite of eggs and looked up at her innocently. “Remember?”  
  
Elle’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Oh yeah?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Well right now, you need to watch your front.”

And with that, she pointed at the puddle of water that formed at her feet and in an instant, the icy cold liquid had flown up and splattered Harry all over his face. Then she picked up his plate of his eggs, and dumped the whole thing into his lap.  
  
Harry sprang up with an angry howl. The whole hall was now in an uproar.  
  
“What the hell did you do that for?” he asked angrily.  
  
“Are you serious?” she screamed. “Look at me!”  
  
“Look at ME!” he shouted back. Had she forgotten that she was the one who started this whole thing in the first place? Had she really expected for him not to retaliate?

“You snooped around our dormitory and turned our room pink!”  
  
“You gave me hypothermia! I could die!”  
  
“Nah, that would be too easy,” he muttered. Ron snorted, and Hermione bit her lip, torn between concern and amusement. Elle grew, if it were possible, more furious.  
  
“I can’t believe how immature you are! Is this the way everyone gets welcomed at Hogwarts?” she retorted. There was more laughter at this, and Harry had a great urge to tell everyone in the hall to mind their own business.

“It’s the way stuck-up snobs get welcomed!” Harry shouted, barely aware of what he was saying.

Hermione tugged on his arm, hissing at him to sit down and shut up. He ignored her.

Elle sneered at him. “Oh, I’m a snob now, am I? Well, you’re an arrogant, broody PRICK Potter!”   
  
Without really knowing what he was doing, Harry pulled out his wand. Elle got hers out too, and they both stood there, pointing their wands at each other and glaring. Elle's fingers were twitching.

The whole hall was silent again, bracing themselves for an all-out duel, but before Harry or Elle could do anything Professor McGonagall came towards them. She stepped between them, looking appalled, and her nostrils were flaring at an alarming rate.  
  
“STOP!” she commanded. “THIS INSTANT!” she added, as Harry and Elle failed to acknowledge her presence.  
  
They both froze, wands raised in preparation for hexing, or cursing, or worse. McGonagall stared at them piercingly.  
  
“Lower those wands immediately,” she said in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
“But…”  
  
“Now, Miss Levine,” McGonagall continued, nodding sharply at her. Elle sighed and lowered her wand. Harry did the same, but still watched his opponent closely. McGonagall took a deep breath.  
  
“Never,” she began heatedly, “and I mean never, have I expected two students of my House to act this way towards one another. Especially N.E.W.T. students. You should be ashamed of yourselves. One hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor, and you will each receive a detention.”  
  
“But Professor, he started it!” Elle exclaimed, in a voice that sounded miraculously like whining. Harry glared at her, and she glared back.  
  
“I don’t want to hear it!” McGonagall pressed on. “You’re lucky I don’t expel you both for displaying such atrocious behavior. Miss Levine, you are to go back to Gryffindor Tower at once and clean yourself up. Miss Granger, will you escort her?” she asked, looking at Hermione.  
  
Hermione nodded and the two girls left the hall, Elle giving Harry a dirty look as she passed.

McGonagall faced Harry sternly, and Harry tried his best to look innocent. He had been expecting punishment, but he hadn’t expected for the prank to go this badly.  
  
“Mr. Potter, you are to go immediately to class after breakfast and be on your best behavior for the rest of the day. If I hear of any more arguments between you and Miss Levine, I will see to it that your title of Quidditch Captain is revoked.”  
  
Harry nodded. “Yes, Professor,” he said quietly.

McGonagall walked away, and Harry went back to the table to gather up his stuff. Ron was waiting for him. The rest of the great hall appeared to have finally moved on, and conversation once again filled the room.  
  
“I’d say that went well,” Ron joked.  
  
Harry was still angry, and began trying to wipe bits of egg off his robes. “You know what? I don’t think I can stand that girl!”  
  
McGonagall, meanwhile, had just sat back down at the high table, and was about to continue eating when Professor Lupin turned towards her.  
  
“That sounded quite familiar,” he muttered, so that the other teachers couldn’t hear him. "Didn't James and Lily used to fight like that? I remember you breaking up a fair few of their arguments as well."  
  
McGonagall sighed. “It sounded too familiar,” she agreed. “That’s what worries me.”  
  


* * *

 

“I really can’t stand him!” Elle said sourly, while Hermione helped her dry her clothes back in the girl’s dormitory. “I mean, I really thought we might be friends, but I guess that’s not going to happen.”  
  
“Elle, I’m sure Harry didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Hermione said, in an attempt to calm her down. “It’s only been a week, maybe you should get to know him more…”  
  
“No!” Elle responded determinedly. “I don’t want anything to do with him.” She sighed, and opened up her trunk, rummaging for clean clothes. “You go on ahead Hermione, I’ll see you in class.”   
  
Hermione shook her head, but patted Elle consolingly on the shoulder as she walked past.

“I’ll be having a word with Lavender and Parvati,” Hermione muttered, opening the door to leave and straightening her Prefect’s badge. “I have enough of Harry and Ron getting in the way of my studies, without them adding to the pressure!”   
  


* * *

 

“I really thought we might be friends,” Harry complained to Ron as the bell rang. “Now, I don’t want anything to do with her.”   
  
They reached the doors and were just about to walk to class when McGonagall came up behind Harry and stopped him once more. Harry turned around, exasperated. _What did he do now?_  
  
“Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office,” she said simply, turning away briskly.  
  
Harry looked at Ron and shrugged, before following McGonagall. He had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be good.  
  



	9. The Truth

As Harry followed Professor McGonagall down the corridor to Dumbledore’s office, he couldn’t help but feel that he was about to get in trouble. Elle was a new student here, and he was supposed to be welcoming her to the school…not dumping buckets of water over her head. Besides, pranks were, after all, against the rules. What he had done must have been really serious if it meant that he was going to see the Headmaster.  
  
They reached the stone gargoyles that guarded the Dumbledore’s office. McGonagall said, “Ear Wax”, and the statues immediately sprang to life and jumped apart, presenting an archway with a familiar revolving staircase that was slowly moving upward. McGonagall and Harry jumped on, and the archway behind them sealed itself once more. 

They rode up in silence, and finally the staircase halted in front of a large door. Harry moved towards it automatically, but McGonagall put out a hand to stop him.  
  
She rapped sharply on the door, and a voice inside called, “Enter!” 

McGonagall opened the door.“Mr. Potter is here to see you,” she said, gesturing towards the Harry.  
  
Dumbledore nodded, and Harry reluctantly stepped inside the office. Everything looked as it usually did, with all of Dumbledore’s objects neatly repaired, and snoozing portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses lining the walls. Dumbledore was leaning back in his chair and resting his hands together. He locked eyes with Harry, and cracked a tiny smile.  
  
“Thank you Minerva, that will be all,” he said kindly. McGonagall left the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
“Well Harry, it is nice to see you again. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the armchair in front of his desk.  
  
Harry sat, and tried not to remember the last time he and Dumbledore had sat like this in his office. It had not been a very pleasant encounter, but Harry would never forget it as long as he lived. After all, it was where he had heard the news of the prophecy- the news that had changed his life.

Suddenly aware of the fact that his hair was still wet and dripping onto his face, Harry wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Dumbledore didn’t pay any attention to this, and only continued to peer at Harry closely from behind his half-moon spectacles. Harry knew that Dumbledore was probably searching for signs of remorse over Sirius, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.  
  
“Um, I suppose you want to reprimand me for pulling that prank on Elle,” he started hastily. “I know she’s a new student here.”  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. “Harry, I did not call you here to scold you,” he said. “Professor McGonagall has already reprimanded you enough, I’m sure. Actually, I was hoping to discuss something with you. It upset me this morning when I heard that you and Miss Levine were arguing. Perhaps your pranks went too far?”  
  
Harry sighed. “I guess. But sir,” he said as politely as possible, “with all due respect, it was only a little water. I mean, I didn’t drown her.”  _If only_ , he thought. “You should see what she did to the boy’s dormitory.”  
  
Dumbledore smiled. “Pink is not one of my favorite colors.”  
  
Harry grinned, and Dumbledore grinned back.  
  
“It disturbed me to hear you two arguing, because you both have so much in common,” he said, almost slyly, looking carefully at Harry. “You could really understand each other, if you took the chance.”  
  
Now Harry was confused. What could he possibly have in common with someone like her? As far as he knew, the only thing they shared was the same eye color. Other than that, they might as well have been from two different worlds.  
  
“What do you mean?” he asked.  
  
“Elle, by far, has had an easier life than you. But just recently, she went through quite a large ordeal, and it is difficult to know where to begin.” Dumbledore sat quietly for a moment, thinking. After a few minutes, he continued with, “As you know, Elle lives with her aunt and uncle.”

Harry nodded.

“Well,” Dumbledore sighed, “that reason is because Elle’s parents were murdered last June by Lord Voldemort. She is an orphan now, just like you.”  
  
Harry was momentarily stunned. He did not know what to say to this. Being faced with her bright personality for the past few days, he never would have guessed that her parents had just been murdered. He opened his mouth, but then changed his mind and closed it again. The guilt that he had steadily been suppressing finally overcame him. 

Dumbledore saw the astonishment on his face, and nodded slowly.  
  
“Yes, it was a terrible tragedy,” he said heavily. “I knew her mother and father. A long time ago, Elle’s parents brought together a group of witches and wizards living in America to help fight the Lord Voldemort and his followers. An international branch of the Order of the Phoenix,” he added.  
  
Harry continued to nod, at a loss for words.  
  
“Anyway, the group was very successful. They defeated many dark wizards who had heard of Voldemort’s reign, and were trying to follow in his footsteps. Also, many Death Eaters at that time were using Los Angeles as a hideout.”  
  
Harry looked up, impressed.

Dumbledore kept going. “They were very concerned about Lord Voldemort’s whereabouts, and wanted me to keep them updated.”  
  
“But, how did you know them so well in the first place?” Harry asked.  
  
“Oh, Dylan Levine, Elle’s father, was a student here at Hogwarts about the same time as your parents were. He applied for a teaching job here right after he left school, but then of course, he went on holiday to America and fell in love with an American witch…Elle’s mother. I kept in touch with him, and when he moved to America and learned of Voldemort’s attacks, he and Kelly formed their group, and I formed our Order,” Dumbledore explained.  
  
“Well, to make a long story short, after Lord Voldemort gave you that scar, there was no need for the two groups to exist anymore. I tried to keep in touch with them, and knew they had a young daughter the same age as you.” He took a thoughtful pause, before saying, “I told them all about you, of course, but I don’t think they ever told Elle the full story of what had occurred before she was born. I got the impression that they didn’t want her knowing about Voldemort, or you, or me. I reckon it was because they wanted to keep her out of danger- the kind of danger they had lived through almost each and every day.”  
  
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Harry protested, knowing full well how it felt to be kept in the dark for a long period of time.  
  
“You’re right,” Dumbledore said. “But after that, I didn’t speak to them for years. There was just too much to be done, and truthfully, I didn’t think I would ever see or speak to them again. The last time I saw them was right before your fifth year, to alert them that Voldemort had returned and to see whether or not they would reform their group. I never met Elle. I’ve had Kingsley keeping tabs on them and their American associates for the past year.”   
  
Dumbledore stopped for a moment and Harry tried to sort this new information in his mind.  
  
“The next I thing I knew,” Dumbledore said sadly, “I was informed that Elle’s parents had been murdered. It wasn’t until later on, after I had met Elle at last, that I found out her mother possessed a very powerful sort of magic. She could cast spells and charms only using her mind, without the use of a wand. In the muggle world, it is called telekinesis.” 

“Yeah,” Harry murmured. “I witnessed some of that. She didn’t want me to tell anyone.”

Dumbledore nodded. “That is understandable. She fears that the reason Voldemort killed her parents was because he knew of this wandless magic. Of course, it may not have helped their situation, but Voldemort can also do powerful magic without a wand. He found out their connections to me and, well, that was it. There was no stopping him or saving them…or any of the other American Order members.” He took a deep breath. “Elle, it seems, has inherited a bit of her mother’s unique trait.”  
  
Silence filled the room after Dumbledore concluded his speech, and Harry felt a huge wave of sympathy for Elle. He was used to living without parents, but Elle had grown up with hers, and must have been close to them. He looked up at Dumbledore, as many questions sprang to mind.  
  
“Do her aunt and uncle know all this?” he asked, wondering if this whole conversation wasn’t an invasion of Elle’s privacy.  
  
“I assume they know bits and pieces,” replied Dumbledore. “But I doubt they understand any of it. From what I’ve heard, they don’t treat her very nicely, and she has an older cousin to deal with. I’m sure you can relate.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Harry, running his hands through his unkempt hair. “I can’t believe I never bothered to find out any of this.” He looked down, ashamed of himself. “I guess I could have done a better job at getting to know her.”  
  
“Do not worry,” Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. “Elle appears to be a strong young lady who can take care of herself. I doubt that she would want sympathy from anyone, especially from you. I admit, I was worried about her at first, but she seems to be fitting in just fine. I see that she and Miss Granger have become close.”  
  
“They have,” said Harry, feeling very grateful for Hermione. “I suppose I should talk to Elle about this…”  
  
“You don’t have to do anything,” Dumbledore interrupted. “But this information is, after all, private. I only told you because, well…” Dumbledore smiled. “I couldn’t bear to keep anything more from you.”  
  
Harry nodded, and returned Dumbledore’s smile.  
  
“Good. Now you may go to class, and give Professor Snape my most sincere apologies for your tardiness,” Dumbledore said, straightening up in his chair.  
  
“Sure thing,” said Harry, getting up.  
  
Dumbledore eyed him closely. “Also, if you don’t mind me saying so Harry, I would like to commend you on how you’re dealing with Sirius’ death. You’ve been handling everything in such an admirable way, and I am very proud of you.”  
  
Harry's heart got momentarily caught in his throat, but he managed a smile. 

“Thank you,” he said slowly, and began walking towards the door. He had just touched the door handle when Dumbledore called out, “Oh Harry, one more thing!”  
  
Harry turned around. “Yes, sir?” he asked cautiously.  
  
Dumbledore grinned. “No more buckets of ice water,” he stated simply. “Dungbombs under the bed are much more satisfactory.”  
  



	10. Quidditch Tryouts

Harry left Dumbledore’s office and arrived at Potions. He especially wasn’t in the mood for it today.

He opened the dungeon door and gave a sneering Professor Snape Dumbledore’s message, then hurried towards the back of the class before Snape could argue with him.He sat down next to Ron, who turned towards him and whispered, “What was all that about?”  
  
Harry shook his head and whispered back, “I’ll tell you later.”

Snape was now busy giving a lecture, so Harry looked across the room and saw Hermione and Elle sitting next to each other.  
  
Elle turned around in her seat and gave Harry a dirty look. Her hair was still damp. The dim light in the dungeon picked up the gold highlights in her hair and the flecks of silver in her green eyes. She looked stormy and sullen.  
  
Harry looked away. He understood Elle better now, but the tragedy of her parents’ death gave her no right to act like a stuck-up brat.

As Snape wrote down the ingredients for the day’s potion on the board, Harry got to work right away, grateful for a distraction.  
  
The class worked quietly for about twenty minutes, when suddenly there was a short scream and a loud crash coming from the other side of the room. Harry and Ron both looked up quickly.  
  
Elle was on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that had come from broken potion bottles and liquids that had seeped out. Her cauldron, upside down, was lying at her feet. A strange, bubbling orange substance trickled down the table. It was a huge mess.  
  
The Slytherins were giggling with glee. Some Gryffindors were laughing as well, but Hermione looked exasperated, as if she couldn’t believe how her new friend had, yet again, become the center of unwanted attention.  
  
Elle, disgruntled, groaned in frustration and slowly stood up, dusting herself off. Snape swept over to her.  
  
“Silence!” he commanded, a shadow of a smile creeping over his sallow skin. He turned to Elle, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Miss Levine, would you care to explain what happened?”  
  
Elle drew herself upright. Harry couldn’t believe how small and tiny she looked next to Professor Snape.  
  
“I slipped,” she explained quietly, looking down.  
  
The whole class continued to laugh, and Snape even allowed himself a tiny grin. 

“I see,” he said slowly. “You slipped. I think that calls for fifty points from Gryffindor for carelessness in my class, and deliberate damage of valuable potions.”  
  
Harry winced. This was definitely not a good day for Elle.  
  
“Deliberate?” Elle asked disbelievingly, as most of the Gryffindors grumbled at this sudden loss of points. “Sir, it was an accident!”  
  
“You haven’t been taking this class seriously, Miss Levine. Your potions are mediocre at best, and your poor handling of ingredients portrays an aura of recklessness. Therefore, it was deliberate.”

Elle sighed, and Harry almost thought he saw her eyes glazing over with tears.

“Please Sir, I can clean up the mess. I can do better with my potions. If I just take off my ruined robes…”

And with a silence so painful, Elle removed her robes in front of the class and threw them aside. She wore jeans and a white shirt underneath, which were clean…but not appropriate for a Potions lesson. Snape looked incensed.

“What has possessed you to wear muggle clothing in this classroom?” Snape asked softly, his eyes flashing dangerously. The class held their breath.

Elle looked slightly shocked at his reaction. “Well, I wore them because…because I was told today was a casual dress day…I mean, those girls said…”

And she looked back toward Parvati and Lavender, both of whom were shaking in silent laughter. Elle’s cheeks grew red, and she seemed to realize right away that she had been lied to.

Snape shook his head. “So you thought you’d show everyone that you’re too good for Hogwarts’ robes,” he said, his sneer returned to his face. “I will take another fifty points from Gryffindor, and you will leave this class immediately. Do not return unless you are wearing something suitable.”  
  
Elle stuck her nose in the air, a pose, which Harry thought, made her look even more like a snob.  
  
“Fine,” she said icily. She grabbed her bag off of the table and strode towards the dungeon doors. She left the room without another word.  
  
The whole class was in shock. Some people were staring in amazement at the mess; others were staring at the door where she had just stormed out. Harry, however, was looking at Snape, whose face was contorted with concealed amusement.  
  
“Well? What is everyone looking at? Back to work!” he barked at the class, before striding back to his desk. No doubt, he was going to write a note for Elle’s immediate expulsion.  
  
The room started to fill with chatter again as the potion-making continued, but as soon as class was over Harry hurried out of the room in order to find Elle. He didn’t know what he wanted to say to her, but he felt like he had to say something. Anybody deserved at least some credit for trying to stand up to Snape, and his prank, combined with Lavender and Parvati’s cruelty, begged an explanation.  
  
To Harry’s disappointment, Elle wasn’t in the next class. Or at lunch. In fact, she didn’t come to any classes the rest of the day. Even that night in the common room, she was nowhere to be found.  


* * *

The next day felt exactly the same as the day before; Elle couldn’t be found in any of her classes, and Hermione told the boys that she had simply refused to get out bed. She had apparently claimed that Harry's ice water had made her sick.   
  
The lessons that day passed quickly, and before Harry knew it him and Ron were heading down to the Quidditch pitch for some much needed practicing. Harry bumped into Cho Chang while out on the field (she had been made the new team captain for Ravenclaw), and was surprised when she came over to say hello.  
  
“Hey, Harry,” she said politely, giving him a smile. “Practicing some new moves?”  
  
“Trying to,” he replied cautiously.  
  
“Oh. Well then, did you have a nice summer?” she asked, in an attempt to be friendly.  
  
“Great,” he lied. “You?”  
  
“Mine was okay,” she answered, biting her lip and glancing around. 

Harry couldn’t recall why he had been so attracted to her last year, and felt very awkward standing there.

Finally, she asked, “So, that girl you were fighting with the other day, the transfer student…who is she? Is she a friend of yours, or…” Cho turned red before she could finish her sentence.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. “She’s nobody” he said uncertainly, wondering if this was the proper course the conversation should take. “Just the new girl.”  
  
Cho looked at him closely. “Okay,” she replied. She appeared to have taken the hint that Harry did not wish to continue the conversation.  
  
She spotted Michael Corner, her boyfriend, coming from far off, and instantly said to Harry, “Well, I’ll see you around. Good luck with tryouts.”  
  
Then she was off. Harry stared after her for a while, lost in thought, before grabbing his broomstick and flying up towards the majestic hoops.  
  
The coming weekend passed in a blur. Harry and Ron were stuck inside doing homework most of the time, or at the very least, trying to do homework. Since Hermione was all done with hers, she and Elle went off and spent time together. Harry supposed that Hermione was enjoying having a close female friend for once, and was glad that Elle had at least one person to bond with, since Harry was now avoiding her like the plague.  
  
Elle eventually decided to show up for classes again. She looked a bit happier, though still kept away from Harry and shot him angry glares whenever she could.

Ron, on the other hand, was trying all he could to be close to Hermione. He always tried to walk next to her, and sit behind her in class, and grab the seat beside her at lunch, pretending it was all a coincidence. Hermione knew better, but didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it was almost as if she were enjoying the attention she received from Ron. Harry knew this had been coming for a long time, but didn’t know when Ron planned to make a move.  
  
After classes on Monday, Harry and Ron returned to the Quidditch pitch, this time changing in their robes to get ready for tryouts. Harry grabbed his Firebolt and walked to the center of the field, waiting for hopefuls to come and line up. A notice had been left in the common room stating when and where tryouts would be held, but Harry had no idea who would show up, or how many.  
  
After about five minutes, a whole group of Gryffindors trickled down to the field, Seamus, Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, and Neville were among them.  
  
“Welcome to the Gryffindor team tryouts,” he announced, feeling a little foolish. He didn’t exactly prefer speaking in front of everyone. “We currently have five positions open, and those are for two beaters and three chasers. Ron is our Keeper, and I’m the Seeker…which hopefully you all have realized by now.”  
  
They laughed, and Harry felt a little better. “I’m also the new captain, so if you all want to come forward you can tell me what position you’re trying out for and we’ll get started.”  
  
Ginny was just about to step forward, when something caught Harry’s eye, and he looked up to see Elle and Hermione coming down to the Quidditch pitch. He groaned inwardly.

Everybody waited in silence until Elle arrived, with Hermione right behind her.  
  
“Hermione, you’re trying out?” Ron asked, grinning stupidly.  
  
Hermione laughed. “Not exactly,” she replied. “I’m just here to support Elle.”  
  
Elle looked up at Harry with determination. She was a lot shorter than him, and as he looked down at her he saw that she was carrying an American-made broomstick.  
  
“And what are you trying out for?” he asked doubtfully. Could someone as girly as her even knew how to fly, let alone play Quidditch?  
  
Elle smiled sweetly. “Beater,” she said, as if it were obvious.  
  
Harry chocked back a laugh. Those bludgers were practically bigger than her whole arm. Nonetheless, he cleared his throat and said, “Fine then. Ginny, what about you?”  
  
“Chaser,” she said.  
  
“Me too,” said Parvati.  
  
“And me,” echoed Lavender.  
  
Harry looked at Neville and Seamus. “Beaters?” he guessed, praying that both of them were better than Elle. They nodded. The rest of the group submitted their preferred positions, and Ron pulled forward the crate that he had taken from the locker room.  
  
“Alright,” Harry said. “Neville, you can go first. Just hold onto this club while I release the bludgers. I’m going to fly up with you, and you try and hit me with as many as you can, okay? Ron’s going to watch from down here.”  
  
Neville nodded, a little unsure of himself, and Harry released the bludgers as they both rose into the air. They practiced for a few minutes. Harry hated to admit this, but Neville was horrible. He seemed to be simply terrified of the bludgers, and kept knocking himself in the head with his own club.

As they landed, Harry said as nicely as he could, “Thanks, Neville. Well done.” He then looked towards Seamus. “Seamus, you can take his club now.”  
  
Harry did the same thing with Seamus as he did with Neville, and found that Seamus was actually pretty good. None of the bludgers came that close to Harry, but he was still better than Neville, and was sure to only improve with time. After his turn was over, it was Elle’s turn. Harry couldn’t help hoping that she would be terrible at Quidditch.  
  
Elle took the club from Seamus and flew up to meet Harry in the air, who hadn’t bothered to come down after Seamus’ turn.  
  
She paused in midair for a few seconds to tie her hair up, and then without warning, she zoomed off. A second later, Harry jerked his broom to the side as a dark, angry-looking bludger came whizzing right past his ear.

His hopes were immediately dashed. Elle didn’t exactly fly with incredible grace or delicacy, but she was a natural. She swung at the bludgers with all her might, and almost all of them spiraled right at Harry’s face. Every time, he found himself ducking quickly to avoid getting hit, and he automatically regretted allowing her to try out. It would be so easy for her to swing a bludger at his nose ,and make it look like an accident. 

She kept some self-control though, and when she was done Harry couldn’t help thinking that she was excellent.  
  
When she flew back towards the ground, Ron looked dumbstruck. Harry looked hopefully towards his friend, searching for some sign that Elle had done poorer than he thought, but was disappointed once more as Ron grinned and flashed him two thumbs up. He sighed. They were stuck having her on the team.  
  
Next, it was the chasers’ turns. Ron flew up to guard the goalposts as Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati all took turns trying to throw the quaffle past him. Harry stood on the ground, surveying their skills and techniques. Thankfully, they all seemed pretty good, especially Ginny and Parvati. They and the rest of the group finished quickly, and afterwards everyone came to stand in a huddle around Harry.  
  
“First, I want to thank everyone for coming out today,” he said fairly. “Our new chasers will be Ginny, Parvati, and Lavender.”  
  
Lavender and Parvati squealed and hugged. Harry winced, but quickly continued. “Our new beaters will be Seamus, and…and…” he seemed to have a hard time getting this one out, and tried not to look at Neville’s face. “And Elle,” he finished dully. He turned to Neville. “Sorry mate,” he said sincerely.  
  
Neville sighed. “That’s alright,” he said quietly, before turning and heading back up to the castle with the others.  
  
Harry stared after him sympathetically. If it were up to him, he would’ve definitely chosen Neville over Elle, but unfortunately, choices were based on talent rather than personality. He could hear lots of mutters about how he had only chosen his friends and roommates, but ignored the whispers. He knew he had put together the most talented of the bunch.  
  
He turned to his new team and prepared for his first motivational speech.

“Congratulations guys,” he said, in as upbeat a manner as he could manage. “Our first team practice will be a week from today, so make sure you're ready. I have a good feeling about this year, and we’re definitely going to destroy the Slytherins during our first match.”

The whole team cheered.

“Okay, get some rest. I’ll see you all next week.”  
  
The group dispersed, and Harry and Ron went to change.  
  
"How does Elle know how to play Quidditch so well?" Harry muttered to Ron, still a bit peeved.   
  
Ron cleared his throat. "Well, apparently Elle has a friend back home who’s a huge Quidditch fan, and they used to play on their school team together..." He looked up and caught Harry's stormy face. "Sorry, Hermione told me."   
  
They started walking back up to the castle. Elle and Hermione were already ahead of them. When they reached the castle doors, Harry promptly bumped into Professor McGonagall.  
  
“Sorry Professor!” he said quickly.  
  
“That’s quite alright,” she said stiffly. “I was looking for you anyway. Miss Levine!” she called.

Elle came over to them, looking confused.  
  
“I didn’t do anything!” she said quickly, glancing at Harry.  
  
“No Miss Levine, I am here to inform you that tomorrow evening, you and Mr. Potter will be serving detention in the trophy room at seven o’clock. Mr. Filch requests that you clean every single trophy in the entire room…without magic. He says they’ve been gathering dust for quite a while, and this is the perfect opportunity to, er, shine them up a bit,” she explained.  
  
Harry and Elle looked daggers at each other.  
  
“I will be there to see that you arrive on time, and will confiscate your wands for the evening,” she added.  
  
Harry swallowed noisily. McGonagall straightened up and said, “Have a good afternoon,” before turning around and striding away.

Harry shook his head furiously.“I can’t believe this,” he moaned, smothering his face with his hands.  
  
Elle gave him a nasty look. “Do me a favor Potter, and don’t talk to me during detention. I don’t need a wand to hex you.”  
  
Harry laughed hollowly. “Fine,” he replied, rolling his eyes.  _That’s it_ , he decided.  _I’m kicking her off the team._  
  
“Fine,” she answered as well, flipping her hair.  
  
They both turned and walked away, dreading the night that lay ahead.


	11. Detention

Harry continued to avoid Elle for the rest of the evening and in their classes the next day. On Tuesday evening, after dinner, he told Ron he’d see him later and headed grudgingly towards the Trophy Room.  
  
He got there early, and began to pace around the room (which was PACKED with trophies) while he waited for McGonagall to show up. He prayed that Elle had somehow tripped on the stairs on her way to the room and would spend the evening in the hospital wing instead, but to his dismay, she walked in five minutes later with all limbs intact.   
  
She was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized gray sweatshirt, with her hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. Not exactly supermodel material, but somehow, she looked better tonight than Harry had ever seen her. 

Nonetheless, Elle didn’t even acknowledge him; she just crossed to the other side of the room and sat there with her knees huddled up against her chest, her head resting on them.  
  
Another five minutes, and McGonagall had finally arrived. Carrying two brown rags and a bucket of soapy water, she motioned for Harry and Elle to come over.   
  
“Wands, please,” she ordered. Harry and Elle both handed over their wands, and in return received a brown rag. “Both of you are to take these and begin scrubbing the trophies in this room using the soap and water.”

Harry stared at the bucket, imagining how nicely it would look over Elle’s head. Elle caught him staring back and forth between her and the bucket, and narrowed her eyes dangerously.  
  
McGonagall continued. “Miss Levine, you can start with the left side, and Mr. Potter can start with the right. I will be back at midnight, and by then I expect each and every one of these trophies to be spotless. If they are, then you may leave. If not, you will come back tomorrow night. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
They nodded, and McGonagall turned to Elle.

“If you feel the sudden need to point at anything, Miss Levine,” she said softly. “I will point you in the direction of the Hogwarts Express, and you will be expelled. Professor Snape is already advocating for your expulsion. I have decided to trust you. Understood?”  
  
Elle nodded. Apparently McGonagall was well aware of Elle’s ability to do wandless magic.   
  
Satisfied, the professor turned to leave. “Good evening,” she said, before closing the doors behind her.  
  
Elle and Harry paused for a moment, looking around the room. There had to be at least 5,000 trophies in there. As he stood there observing the room and all the work that was looming ahead of them, Elle sighed in frustration and angrily dipped her rag into the bucket of soapy water. Then she shuffled unwillingly to the left side of the room and started scrubbing a large silver trophy that had been awarded to a student for a getting a perfect score on their N.E.W.T.’s. 

Harry sighed, dipped his own rag into the bucket, and set off toward the opposite side to begin his punishment.  
  
They worked in silence for a good hour and a half. It was a very uncomfortable silence that was only broken twice; once by Elle’s sneeze, and another by Harry’s cough as he uncovered some dust lying behind a particularly shabby-looking trophy.

After another twenty minutes, Elle’s stomach grumbled loudly, causing Harry to turn around and look at her.  
  
He was almost shocked, as he had never seen Elle this defeated before. Her usual spark and personality were gone, and instead she looked weary and sad. She threw her rag down on the floor and slid with her back against the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She propped her knees up against herself once more, and wrapped her arms around her legs as she stared off into space.  
  
Harry cleared his throat.  
  
“So you’ve given up, have you?” he asked, not really caring about her answer. He was just sick of all the silence.  
  
She shrugged, and raised her eyes to look up at him. Harry expected a nasty retort, but instead Elle burst out laughing.   
  
“What?” he asked, bewildered. 

She shook her head, continuing to laugh. It didn’t take long for Harry to grow annoyed.  
  
“Have you gone mad?” he demanded angrily.  
  
“You, um…you have something on your face,” she managed to gasp out between her giggles.  
  
Harry groaned and immediately grabbed the nearest trophy in order take a glimpse at his reflection. To his astonishment, a huge, ridiculous looking grease mark was smeared across his face, covering both cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He looked down at his hands, and saw that they were covered in dirt. Remembering how many times he had smothered his face with his hands, Harry sighed and began laughing too. He had to admit, he looked ridiculous.  
  
For a while, he and Elle both laughed together, and somehow neither seemed to be able to stop. Once their laughter finally died, Elle steadied her breath.  
  
“Oh, come here,” she said exasperatedly, but she was smiling. “I’ll fix it for you.”  
  
Harry hesitated, not entirely trusting her. Finally, he walked over and knelt down, till their faces were level. She reached up, and gently stroked his cheek with her hand, which felt smooth and warm against his skin. It took all of Harry’s willpower to keep from avoiding her gaze.  
  
“There,” she said lightly, taking her hand away. “It’s gone.”  
  
Harry dared another glance into the back of the trophy. The grease mark was indeed gone.  
  
“Thanks,” he muttered, but then automatically regretted it. After all, they were supposed to be mad at each other.  
  
Elle seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Listen,” she said awkwardly. “I’m really sorry about…”  
  
“No, it’s me who should be sorry,” Harry interrupted, before he could stop himself. They both shut their mouths and grinned at each other.  
  
“You’re right, you are the one who should be sorry,” Elle said. “Why are you picking on the new girl? And you _had_ to make Lavender and Parvati lie to me about a casual dress day?”  
  
Harry gave her a look. “I didn’t know they told you that,” he said seriously. “And I wasn’t really thinking, I was just upset about the photo album. Those are the only pictures I have of my parents.”  
  
Elle looked down. “I’m really sorry,” she whispered. “That was an accident. I was sort of…uh…looking around the boy’s dormitory and happened to see it. I got carried away, and before I knew it, everything had changed color.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You were snooping?”

Elle winced. “Yes,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to tell you. It won’t happen again, I was just…exploring the castle.”   
  
“Well, I overreacted,” Harry said, shrugging. “It’s not every day a girl turns my room into a pink paradise.”  
  
Elle laughed. “It’s not every I get doused by an icy waterfall,” she replied. “Want to call a truce?”  
  
Harry held up his hand. “Truce,” he confirmed.

They shook hands firmly, and Harry sat next to her with his back against the wall.  
  
They were silent for a few moments, but it wasn’t the same silence as before- it was a more relaxed one. Harry glanced down at the trophy he had grabbed and saw that it was made out to Dylan Levine, who had won an award for receiving top grades in all of his classes during seventh year. Harry looked at Elle, and saw that she was gazing at the trophy too, wearing an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“It’s weird,” she said softly. “You know, going to the same school my dad went to. He told my mom and I so much about Hogwarts, but I never thought I would actually come here.”   
  
Harry didn’t know what to say. He felt a sudden urge to talk to Elle about his godfather, an urge he had never felt with Ron and Hermione. It made no sense; he barely knew her, yet here he was, ready to spill his soul. It was as if he had known her for years- he had the strange, but comforting feeling that he could talk to her about anything. What was happening to him?  
  
“You know,” Harry said after a while. “My godfather died a few months ago. His name was Sirius.”  
  
Elle glanced at him. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I bet you miss him a lot.”  
  
Harry nodded. “Every day,” he admitted.   
  
Elle sighed. “My parents are dead,” she blurted out suddenly.  
  
Harry studied her face carefully. “I know,” he replied.  
  
Elle didn’t ask how he knew this. Harry continued.  
  
“My parents are dead too.”  
  
Elle bit her lip and raised her eyes to his face.

“I know,” she whispered. 

And then, for the first time since he met her, her eyes traveled to his forehead and rested on his scar. Harry was surprised to find that this didn’t make him uncomfortable at all.  
  
Elle leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. “I miss them so much,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Harry.  
  
Harry had a sudden urge to put his arm around her, but resisted. “I bet you hated having to move,” he said instead.  
  
Elle nodded, but then quickly said, “Don’t get me wrong, Hogwarts is great…it’s just, being here feels so different.” Her eyes glazed over slightly as she began to reminisce. “I used to go to the movies and the mall with my friends all the time. And the beaches back home are amazing…”  
  
They were silent for a moment, as Harry tried to picture where she lived. He had never been to the beach.  
  
“Do you ever feel suffocated?” Elle asked suddenly. “Being in this castle all the time? Like you need a breath of fresh air?”  
  
“No,” Harry replied, looking away. “This is my home. I dread going away for the summer, back to my aunt and uncle’s house. I hate it there. If I didn’t have Hogwarts, I’d probably go mad.”  
  
“I know what you mean,” Elle agreed, nodding quickly. “I hate it at my aunt and uncle’s house too. Plus, I have an older cousin who thinks the world revolves around her.”  
  
Harry was reminded strongly of Dudley. “Sounds like my cousin,” he said. “Maybe they should get together and have tea.”  
  
Elle looked horrified. “Oh no, definitely not,” she said.  
  
They both laughed at that, and continued to spend the next couple of hours sitting on the floor and talking, the two of them happy to be basking in the glow of a budding friendship. Harry was more than content to stay here and talk with her for the whole night.  
  
“So you’re really into muggle stuff, huh?” Harry asked in amusement as he listened to Elle ramble on about her life back home.  
  
Elle nodded, sitting up and tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears. “My dad was a HUGE muggle movie buff, he loved living so close to Hollywood.”   
  
“Okay,” said Harry. “So…say you’re on a desert island and you can only have your top three movies, books, and music. What would you choose?”  
  
“Hmm,” Elle considered thoughtfully. “Why do I have to answer this again?”  
  
“Because it’s the desert island game, and your answers provide deep psychological meaning. And there’s nothing else to do besides clean trophies.”  
  
Elle laughed. “Okay,” she said seriously. “Let’s see…top music…okay, okay, okay, I’d definitely have to say the Spice Girls…maybe some Nsync…”  
  
“What?” Harry asked in disbelief. He recalled those names from conversations between Dudley and his gang, though they were usually spoken with disdain. “No, you don’t understand, this is the music you have to listen to for the rest of your life…”  
  
“I know! That’s the kind of music I love!”  
  
“The Spice Girls? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…”  
  
“Well, who would you choose?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Harry thought. He didn’t really listen to much muggle music. “Definitely not Celestina Warbeck. Let’s move on to something else…we’ve got to work on your understanding of British slang…”   
  
“What, like using the word loo instead of bathroom?” Elle suggested.  
  
“Brilliant! And learning to make a proper cup of tea at breakfast,” Harry chided playfully.   
  
After a long while of discussing their different backgrounds and habits, Harry glanced at his watch during a break in the rapid conversation.  
  
“Okay, so it’s lifts instead of elevators, and pudding can mean dessert in general, not just actual pudding…” Elle was saying.  
  
“Wait,” Harry interrupted. “McGonagall’s going to be here in ten minutes, and we haven’t finished cleaning!”  
  
They both jumped to their feet and grabbed their rags. A second later they were zooming around the room, giggling and knocking into each other as they tried to finish up the trophies they hadn’t yet polished.  
  
Two minutes before McGonagall was set to come back, Harry tossed Elle a trophy that he found on the floor, she cleaned it was a single swipe, and neatly placed it back on the shelf. Then they both fell to the floor again, laughing and breathing heavily.  
  
“That was a close one,” Elle said breathlessly. “Nice toss. Very smooth.” Her cheeks were flushed, and some stray hairs were hanging loose from her ponytail.  
  
“Thanks,” said Harry. He took a deep breath. “You know, you’re turning out to be really different from what I thought you’d be.”  
  
“Not a snob?” Elle responded, her eyes twinkling.  
  
“I should never have called you that,” Harry replied. “But I definitely deserved the title of arrogant prick.”

Elle shoved him lightly with her foot.  
  
“Well Potter, maybe you’re not so arrogant,” she said. “And you’re a lot different from what I thought you’d be too.”   
  
Harry grinned for about the millionth time that night. “I’m glad we made up. It’s nice to have someone else to talk to.”  
  
Elle smiled. “I’m glad I can talk to you too.”  
  
It was then that Harry realized something about Elle. Despite all the laughter and brightness brimming inside of her, he had seen something different tonight. Buried underneath all those smiles and all that charm lay a heavy veil of sadness. From that night on, Harry knew that he would never look at her the same way again.  
  
As the night had grown, Harry had also realized that if he wasn’t careful, he could just end up falling in love. He had never felt this way with Cho. Only a girl as complex and aggravating as Elle could make a person hate her one minute, and fall in love with her the next.  
  
They sat there for another few moments, staring into each other’s eyes. Harry instinctively brushed a hair that was hanging in Elle’s face and tucked it behind her ear.

Elle closed her eyes, and for some reason, Harry felt unable to take his hand away. They were inches away from each other, lips barely apart, when they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. McGonagall was back.  
  
They separated guiltily and stood up. McGonagall didn’t say a word, but walked slowly around the room and inspected the trophies. Harry wondered if she had known what him and Elle had been up to, and when she turned around again, his suspicions were confirmed.  
  
“These trophies,” she said slowly, an unreadable smile spreading across her face, “Are filthy.”  
  
Harry and Elle shared looks. Harry opened his mouth to defend them, but before he could speak McGonagall had taken out her wand. She whispered an incantation, and a second later the trophies were sparkling, clean as could be. She then handed back Harry’s and Elle’s wands and stood there, raising her eyebrows.  
  
“That’s better,” she said. “I believe the two of you are free to go. I think you’ve been punished enough.”  
  
Harry grinned. “Thanks, Professor,” he said gratefully.  
  
Elle smiled too. “Yes, thank you,” she added.  
  
McGonagall turned around. “For what?” she asked slyly, leaving the room.  
  
Harry and Elle traded amused looks and started walking back towards Gryffindor Tower. The corridors were deserted.  
  
When they entered the common room, they paused in front of the fireplace, where the dwindling flames had cast a comforting glow around the room. It was empty.  
  
“So”, said Elle. She looked up at him and smiled. “Are we friends?”  
  
“Definitely,” said Harry.  
  
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she replied, and ascended the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.  
  
Harry stared after her for a few moments, before walking up to his own dormitory. He quickly changed and climbed into bed. Closing his eyes, he reflected on his evening with Elle, and wondered what would have happened if McGonagall had only come ten seconds later.   
  



	12. The Golden Quartet

The next morning, Harry and Ron went down to the common room to wait for Hermione and Elle.  
  
“How was your detention last night?” Ron asked. “I was afraid you guys might kill each other if you were left alone too long.” He laughed. "You should have seen how furious the both of you looked."   
  
Harry laughed. “No, it wasn’t like that at all,” he replied. “Actually, the night wasn’t that bad. We kind of...got to know each other better.”  
  
Ron looked at Harry, eyes wide. “Are you serious? After all that screaming and yelling?”  
  
Harry nodded. “We’re friends now.”  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. “So I guess the war is over?”  
  
“For now at least. What did you do last night?”  
  
Ron shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Hermione and I just went to the library to study, that’s all.”  
  
Harry snorted. “Study?” he asked in disbelief.  
  
“Well, I thought she might like some company,” Ron said nonchalantly, looking away.  
  
“Okay,” said Harry patiently. “Ron, when are you going to ask her out?”  
  
Ron instantly turned white. It was like Harry had just asked him when he was going to perform brain surgery on her.  
  
“When the time is right,” he muttered hastily.  
  
Suddenly a sound of laughter broke out. Elle and Hermione had emerged from their dormitory and were coming down the stairs. Skipping down the last few steps, Elle stumbled a little and came to a stop in front of Harry and Ron. Harry caught sight of a tiny, glittery butterfly pinned to the side of her hair.  
  
Ron stared at her incredulously. “Are you drunk?” he asked.  
  
Elle laughed. “Nope, just in a good mood.”  
  
She was definitely cheerier today than she had been yesterday, and Harry wondered if their detention had anything to do with her lightened mood.  
  
“Come on, I’m starving,” Elle added, leading the way out of the portrait hole.  
  
They arrived at the Gryffindor table, chatting happily and eating their breakfast, until the mail came. For a couple of days now Elle had been getting all sorts of packages- cards, balloons, and sweets usually, and today was no different. An owl soared down in front of Elle, carrying a huge parcel.  
  
“Wow,” Elle said, raising her eyebrows as she unwrapped candy, flowers, and cards.  
  
“Where do these all come from?” Ron questioned.  
  
“From my friends back home. Sympathy gifts, I guess.”  
  
“Sympathy gifts?” Ron asked curiously.  
  
“Yeah. My parents died shortly before I moved here,” Elle explained calmly.  
  
Ron was silent for a moment. “Oh,” he said, looking horrified for being so blunt. “I'm really sorry.”

He raised his eyebrows at Harry, as if to say that the two had a lot more in common than he had thought.   
  
Elle shook her head. “It’s okay, Ron.” She grinned and picked up some lilies off of the table, turning towards Hermione.  
  
“Hermione, as my newfound best friend, will you accept these flowers as a symbol of my undying loyalty?” she said in mock seriousness.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, but laughed all the same and took the flowers.  
  
“Sure,” she grinned, taking one of the flowers and sticking it behind her ear. Harry saw Ron stare at her with a mystified gaze out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Elle giggled and turned back around. Parvati was staring at her with a look of disgust.  
  
“You know, getting this much mail shouldn’t be allowed. Look at what a mess the table is!” Parvati complained loudly to Seamus.  
  
“Here, Parvati,” Elle said, tossing her a box of chocolates. “If you wanted one, all you had to do was ask.”  
  
Parvati sniffed haughtily and gingerly picked up one side of the box, holding it away from her as if it might be poisoned. Elle abruptly stood up.  
  
“Wait!” said Ron. “What about all the rest?”  
  
Elle scanned the table. “Oh, you can have them,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.  
  
“Wow, thanks,” said Ron. He leaned over and scooped up all the candy, stuffing them in his bag.  
  
As they got up to go to class, Hermione and Elle walked ahead of them while Harry and Ron dawdled behind.  
  
“So,” Harry said as they trailed after the girls. “What do you think of her?”  
  
“Who, Hermione?” Ron asked Harry, confused.  
  
Harry gave him a look. Did Ron always have Hermione on the brain now?

“I meant Elle,” he replied earnestly. "I mean, now that we're friends...are you okay with her being around?"   
  
“Oh,” said Ron thoughtfully. “Well, if you want my honest opinion, I think she’s completely mental.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, and Ron shrugged.

“Hey, at least she’s generous,” he added, patting his bulging bag of sweets. "Sure, we can keep her."  
  


* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all became close with Elle. The four of them were together constantly. Harry also found himself growing accustomed to Elle’s bubbly personality. She always seemed to be laughing at something, and usually wore a charming grin on her face.When she was in a good mood, he rarely wanted to leave her side.

Harry began to think of the possibility of him and Elle maybe becoming more than just friends, but the thought always seemed to just dwindle helplessly in his mind.  
  
Harry decided that he wouldn’t worry about it for now. He did, after all, have classes to concentrate on. Harry’s best class this year, by far, was Professor Lupin’s. He was teaching the whole class how to conjure Patronuses now, and when he called Harry up to demonstrate, everybody was deeply impressed when a magnificent, glistening stag erupted from the end of his wand.

Of course, the old DA members already knew how to do this, and when the rest of the class mastered it, the classroom was filled with shimmering, gliding Patronuses. Elle squealed in child-like excitement as she saw her silver tiger prance around the room.  
  
“They’re so beautiful,” she said happily, leaning back against a cushion Professor Lupin had set up for when they practiced defense spells.  
  
Harry sat down next to her. “A tiger. That’s interesting,” he remarked.  
  
Elle looked at him. “Why is that?” she asked curiously.  
  
Harry leaned back and stretched his arms out in front of him, then let them fall. “I expected your Patronus to be more girly. Like a unicorn. Or a flamingo.”  
  
She sat up and hit him on the shoulder. “Take that back!”  
  
“Ouch,” Harry replied, rubbing his shoulder. “Fine, I take it back.”  
  
She smiled and leaned back again, so that this time their arms were touching. Harry was very aware of this, and he could see that Elle noticed it too. She quickly moved her arm away.  
  
“So, what have you decided to name your stag?” she asked jokingly, in an attempt to overcome the sudden awkwardness.  
  
“His name is Prongs.”  
  
“Prongs?” she repeated in confusion.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound deeper and possibly more mature. “It was my dad’s nickname in school. He was an Animagus, and could turn into a stag. Just wait till I tell you the whole story. There may or may not be a magical, mischief-making map involved.”

Elle grinned. “Do you think your dad knew my dad?” she asked curiously. “I mean, my dad was in Hufflepuff, but still…”

Harry shrugged, but suddenly felt a bit melancholy. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I wish we had the chance to ask them.”

Elle bit her lip. “Yeah,” she said, focusing unsteadily on the shimmering animals before her. Harry decided to change the subject. 

“And what shall you name your tiger? Wait, no, let me guess…” he interrupted, as Elle began to open her mouth. He closed his eyes, pretending to ponder the possibilities. “Princess sparkles?”  
  
“Gee, how did you know?” she asked sarcastically.  
  
“Lucky guess,” Harry smirked at her. She rolled her eyes.  
  
“Hey Elle!” Ron yelled from across the room. “How about a Patronus race? My terrier against your tiger?”   
  
Elle laughed. “You’re on,” she said, jumping up and grabbing her wand.  
  
Harry laughed too. “How about it, Hermione?” he called over to her. “Is your otter up for a challenge?”  
  
The rest of the class time was spent engaging in amusing animal races. Even though the Patronuses didn’t last very long, they kept conjuring new ones and switching partners. Soon the class was over, and after dinner they all headed back to the common room.  
  
“What’s this?” Hermione asked, pointing to the message board on the wall.  
  
Harry glanced at it. There was a huge banner plastered onto it that was flashing orange.   
  
**Halloween Ball**  
  
 **31 October  
8:00 pm- Midnight**  
  
 **Will take place in the Great Hall following the Halloween Feast**  
  
 **Dress robes and elegant attire are required**  
Fourth Years and above welcome to attend  
  
Elle was the first to speak. “There’s going to be a Halloween Ball?” she said happily. “I didn't know this school threw dances!”  
  
Hermione smiled. “It's possible Dumbledore is trying to lighten things up, with all the uncertainty surrounding Voldemort. The ball is in two weeks. Next weekend is a Hogsmeade trip, so we can go shopping for dress robes there.”  
  
Harry poked Ron in the ribs.

“Do it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend was a fool if he didn’t seize this excellent opportunity.  
  
Ron paled, but hesitantly stepped forward. “Hermione,” he began. “Um…do you maybe want to…I don’t know…go to this ball thing with me?” he stuttered, turning extremely red. “I just figured I’d…you know…ask you before someone else does,” he added.  
  
Hermione looked very pleased. “Oh Ron, of course I would,” she said, positively beaming.  
  
Harry then sensed the awkwardness that was about to ensue, and turned to Elle. She raised her eyebrows.  
  
“Going to make me beg, Potter?” she asked while grinning, instantly easing the tension.  
  
Harry sighed in mock exasperation. “Oh, all right,” he said in a bored tone. “I’ll let you come to the ball with me. But only if no other girls ask me instead.”  
  
Elle smirked. “I didn’t realize that was a possibility.”  
  
They talked for a while about the ball before saying goodnight and going into their separate dorms. Harry tried not to show how excited he was, and failed dismally.  
  


* * *

 

  
“You know, Hermione,” Elle said, as they got ready for bed, fluffing her pink, fuzzy pillow that she had brought from home. “I’m glad you’re going to the ball with Ron.”  
  
“Trust me, I’ve been waiting for this invitation a long time,” said Hermione ruefully. She looked at Elle. “Happy about going with Harry?”  
  
Elle wrinkled her nose. “Happy about going to a dance with a guy who thinks a bucket of ice water is a fantastic prank? Yeah, right.”  
  
Hermione got a sudden gleam in her eye. “You like him, don’t you?”  
  
Elle shook her head vigorously, and Hermione nodded knowingly.

“I knew it. You’re completely in love with him. Go on, admit it.”  
  
Elle stared at Hermione in shock. “In love? What made you think I was…” she started to say, but it was no use. She was unable to hide the foolish smile that was slowly creeping onto her face. She slapped her hand over her mouth, and rolled over onto her bed, face down in the pillows.   
  
Hermione laughed. “You do!”  
  
Elle laughed too. “I do not,” she insisted, threatening to swat Hermione with a pillow. “We’re just friends, that’s all. Besides, it’s not the right time for a relationship- especially not with “The Chosen One.”   
  
Hermione settled down onto her bed. “There’s always time,” she replied wisely. She then turned to Elle, suddenly seriously. “Hey, I’ve realized you’ve stopped crying at night.”

Elle looked at Hermione quizzically. Hermione looked guilty.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. You used to fall asleep crying every night, but ever since we’ve all become friends, you seem to be doing a lot better,” Hermione explained.

Elle smiled. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I still grieve for my mom and dad. I miss my home. But,” she sniffed, rubbing her arms against her eyes. “I’m really, really grateful you three took me in. It’s actually kind of hard for me to make real friends.”

Hermione grasped Elle’s hand briefly. “It’s hard for me too,” she said calmly. “I find books are easier to connect with than people. Harry and Ron, though, have always been there for me, and now we can be here for you.”

Elle nodded, her throat tight with emotion.

Hermione turned off the light and closed her eyes. “Goodnight.”  
  
“Night,” Elle echoed softly.

She fell into bed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Hermione was right about a lot of things, but not about liking Harry. There was no way even thought of Harry as anything more than a friend.

_Or is there?_ A voice inside of her whispered.   
  
Elle shook her head. Even if she DID like him, Harry would never be interested in her. He was the famous Harry Potter, he had a lot to deal with…it would be better if she just stayed out of it. A boy as serious, and sincere, and, well, heroic as Harry didn't have any business getting involved with a girl like her. 


	13. Hogsmeade and Hagrid

The next week passed by very quickly and before anyone knew it, it was the day of the Hogsmeade trip. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Elle all woke up early that day in order to get a head start. They also wanted time to show Elle around the village.  
  
“You’ll really like Honeydukes,” Ron told her at breakfast that morning.  
  
“And Zonko’s,” said Harry.  
  
“And the Shrieking Shack,” added Hermione.  
  
Elle smiled as they filled her in on all the cool things there were to see. When they finished breakfast, they headed down to the front doors. Elle handed over her permission slip to Filch, which her aunt had thankfully signed, and they were off.  
  
Once they reached the village, Elle looked around and her eyes widened in amazement.

“Wow, this place looks awesome!” she said ecstatically. She grabbed Harry’s hand and yanked him forward. “Come on, let’s go!”  
  
Even though they had visited Hogsmeade many times before, it was always fun exploring a place with a new pair of eyes. They went to all the places they had talked about and Elle seemed to be having the time of her life. She, like Ron, seemed to especially enjoy Honeydukes.  
  
“I have a major sweet tooth,” she explained, holding as many chocolates and gumballs as she could carry.  
  
After they were done, Hermione and Elle left Ron and Harry as they went to go and search for dress robes, telling them to meet up in the Three Broomsticks later on. They walked around for a while without any luck, until they came across a store that had a huge sign in the window, which read,  **“Magic Fashions- Exclusive to Hogsmeade.”**  
  
The girls exchanged glances, before stepping inside the store. Once they were inside, they couldn’t help but gasp. The shop was filled with hundreds of gowns and dresses in every single style and color; there were puffy dresses, short dresses, tight dresses, plain dresses, dresses with sequins, spots, stripes, dresses with glitter, and even some dresses that changed color depending on what mood you were in, or what the weather was. Even Hermione, who was the last person in the world to get excited about a dress, looked impressed.  
  
They each immediately grabbed a handful of hangers and dashed for the nearest fitting room. After about an hour of trying on countless garments and discarding hundreds of exquisite options, they both chose their selections and headed for the till. Hermione had chosen a sleeveless, satin pale pink dress, with matching heels to wear on her feet. Elle chose a smaller, silver spaghetti-strap dress that was dusted in subtle glitter and tiny rhinestones, and a pair of black heels.  
  
“I never thought shopping could be this much fun,” Hermione said, sounding a little surprised with herself as they left the store. "But then again, I've never had a close female friend before."  
  
Elle grinned. “Glad I could be of service,” she replied, sounding delighted. “Watch out- soon you’ll be flipping through fashion magazines and asking to go to the mall.”  
  
Hermione shook her head, but stole a glance into her bag. Elle gave her a reassuring smile.  
  
“Ron is going to love it,” she remarked, as they headed for the Three Broomsticks.  
  
The warm, glowing lights of the Three Broomsticks came into view. They stepped into the bar, and immediately spotted Harry and Ron sitting at a table with four butterbeers.  
  
“Bloody hell, what took you so long?” asked Ron, squirming impatiently in his seat.  
  
“Lighten up,” said Elle, sitting in the chair across from Harry. “You should see Hermione’s dress; it’s to die for.”  
  
Hermione practically choked on her butterbeer, but Harry could tell she was pleased with herself.  
  
“Yeah?” said Harry. “Well then Elle, let me see yours.” He made a snatch for her bag, but she grabbed it out of his reach.  
  
“Don’t you dare,” she threatened. “If you even sneak a peek before the night of the dance, I’ll hex you.”  
  
Harry held up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”  
  
They spent the rest of their time downing glass after glass of butterbeer and, filling Elle in on all their adventures over the years. She quickly learned about the Marauder’s Map, the Sorcerer’s Stone, Aragog, and anything else they could remember. Elle could only laugh and shake her head in amazement.

“This should all be written down in books,” she remarked wryly.

When they finished, they returned to the castle.As they relaxed in the common room before dinner, Harry gazed lazily around the empty room and finally settled his sights on one of the tower windows. As if by instinct, he looked out towards Hagrid’s cabin, which had been deserted since the beginning of the year. He was shocked to see that this time, there were lights on inside.  
  
He turned to Hermione and Ron, who were sitting beside him. Elle had gone up to drop off the bags in the girl’s dormitory.  
  
“Hagrid’s back, look!”  
  
They both rushed to the window.  
  
Ron squinted his eyes. “We should go down and see him.”  
  
“Yes,” Hermione agreed.  
  
Elle came down from her room and stared at them as they all gathered around the window. “What’s going on?”  
  
Harry grinned. “Elle’s there’s someone we’d like you to meet.”  
  
Confused, Elle followed them out of the common room and onto the school grounds, where they turned towards Hagrid’s hut. Harry knocked on the front door, and Elle looked around.  
  
“Who lives here?” she asked, as Fang barked and growled loudly from inside.  
  
Before Harry could answer, a familiar voice shouted out, “Come on in!” They opened the door, and went inside.  
  
Hagrid was standing in front of the stove, busy making tea. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elle piled into the room, and Hagrid put down the kettle, his face spread out in a bushy smile.  
  
“I was wonderin when yeh’d come ter see me,” he said loudly, striding over to them. “I’ve already been back five whole minutes! What have yeh three been doin?”  
  
Harry grinned. “Hagrid, there’s somebody we’d like you to meet…” But before he could finish, Elle came into view behind him and her face broke into a huge smile.  
  
“You’re Hagrid, aren’t you?” she shrieked excitedly. “My dad’s told me all about you!”   
  
“Yeh must be Dylan Levine’s daughter,” Hagrid nodded, his beetle-black eyes widening. “Good man, he was. I was sorry ter hear he passed.”   
  
“Well, I moved in with my aunt and uncle, and now I go to Hogwarts,” Elle answered happily.  
  
“Wait a second,” said Ron, holding up his hands. “Hagrid, how did you know Elle’s dad?”   
  
Hagrid looked at them thoughtfully. “He used to follow me around me hut during his time at Hogwarts, real earnest student. Dumbledore used ter send me off ter America ter give him messages, long time ago.” He sighed. “He was always friendly ter me,” he told Elle, a little sadly. He gave her a smile. “Yeh look just like yer mum.”  
  
Elle smiled. “Thanks,” she said.  
  
“Hagrid’s a teacher here,” Harry told her as they went over to the table. “You didn’t know that?”  
  
Elle shook her head. “I knew there was a gamekeeper named Hagrid, but there was a lot my parents didn’t tell me,” Elle said. “They always wanted me to know as little about their lives as possible. They said it was to protect me.” She grinned a little. "Although that never stopped me from trying to eavesdrop."   
  
When they were all seated, Hagrid took the tea and carried the cups over to the table. Harry filled Hagrid in on how Elle and all of them met, and how they got off to a rocky start. Hagrid laughed with them.  
  
“It’s funny how things can start out like that,” he said wisely.   
  
“Yeah,” said Harry, as he watched Elle continue to smile and laugh. He felt a tiny flutter in his stomach, and had to set down his cup of tea.  _Easy, boy._

He caught Elle’s eye, and both of them quickly looked away. He thought he saw Hagrid looking at him with an amused gleam in his eye, and tried to ignore it.   
  
“So, where were you this time, Hagrid?” Ron asked, his mouth full with biscuits. “More giant stuff? Did you bring Grawp with you?”   
  
“Nah, secret mission fer Dumbledore,” he responded gravely. “Grawp couldn’t come, got ‘em a little cave up in the mountains. Lemme tell yeh, I found out some stuff, an’ it isn’t good. Yeh know, the Dementors joined ranks with You-Know-Who.”  
  
Harry sighed. “Yeah well, we all expected that to happen, didn’t we?”  
  
Hagrid nodded. “That’s not all I found out either.”  
  
“What else did you find out?” asked Elle eagerly, happy to be clued in on something for once.  
  
Hagrid shook his head. “Can’t tell yeh. And don’t try an’ pester it out of me neither!” he added sternly. “This is serious. But I’ve already spoken ter Dumbledore, an’ if he decides to tell yeh, than that’s his decision. Not mine.”  
  
All four of them nodded, but Harry was worried. There was no telling what Voldemort could be planning now. As they finished up their tea with Hagrid, they moved on to talking about the ball- a much better topic, in Harry’s opinion.

* * *

 

Later that night, Harry still couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation with Hagrid. Ever since Elle had come into his life he had barely thought about Voldemort once, but now he was regretting his lack of action. Of course, Voldemort had been quiet so far, but Harry didn’t know how long that would last. He removed his glasses and climbed into bed, and after a few minutes Ron entered the room.  
  
“Interesting day, huh?” he said, by way of greeting.  
  
“Sure was,” Harry replied slowly, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
“What’s going on with you and Elle?” Ron blurted out suddenly. Then, his cheeks flushed "Sorry, Hermione wanted me to ask you."   
  
Harry sighed. “Nothing,” he said, unconvincingly, though that wasn’t entirely true.  
  
“Oh, give me a break,” Ron grinned. “You like her, admit it! You asked her to the ball, you two flirt with each other like mad, you drive everybody around you insane with your stupid jokes…”  
  
“We do not,” Harry said calmly. “You can relax, we’re only going to the ball as friends.”  
  
Ron sighed, knowing that he wasn’t about to get anywhere by prodding Harry.

“Whatever.” He rolled over onto his bed and shut his eyes, having already lost interest in the topic. “Night.”  
  
“Night,” said Harry.  
  
He pulled the hangings around his bed shut. But as he lay back down, he couldn’t help thinking that he _did_ like Elle. He just wasn’t quite sure if he should tell Ron that yet.  
  
As he continued to think about it, a sudden realization came over him, a realization so strong that he had to sit up and rub his forehead. Wait a minute…he didn’t love her, did he? No, that was impossible…he hadn’t even known her that long, he couldn’t possibly be in love! After all, he didn’t even know what love really was. He had had crushes on girls before, sure, but had never considered being in love with Cho. But then again, why else would he think about her constantly, and feel exhilarated every time he saw her, and dream about her every night? Was that love?   
  
He took a deep breath. “Even if I did, she would never love me back,” he whispered to himself. “Not in a million years.”


	14. The Halloween Ball

The week leading up to the dance passed by in a blur. No matter where Harry went, all he heard people talking about was the Halloween Ball, and how spectacular it was supposed to be. Even the teachers seemed to be getting into the Halloween spirit. Harry found that he was looking forward to this ball tons more than he had the Yule Ball; he remembered all too well the pressure he had felt on asking Cho to be his date, and felt immensely relieved that he didn’t have to go through that sort of torture this time around.  
  
On Friday, the day before the dance, the four friends were walking back to Gryffindor Tower from dinner. Harry found it harder than ever to tear his eyes away from Elle…she seemed even prettier tonight than usual. Maybe it was the way her eyes were all lit up as she discussed the wonderful evening that lay ahead of them. Every time she let out a laugh, she flashed Harry with her smile. Harry had to keep reminding himself that they were just friends.   
  
As they entered their dormitory, it only took two minutes for Harry to slap his hand to his forehead. He had just realized that he had forgotten his schoolbooks in the Great Hall, and as he had loads of homework, not retrieving them immediately was out of the question. Frowning in annoyance, he told his friends that he’d be right back and rushed to go find his books.  
  
As he walked toward the double doors leading into the Great Hall, he heard footsteps coming from far off. Harry stopped and looked around. Dinner was over, so the area was empty. Yet the footsteps grew closer, until suddenly they stopped a few inches behind the spot where Harry was standing. He turned around, apprehensively drew out his wand, and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry had to fight back a gasp. Something was seriously wrong.

Since their last encounter on the train, something had definitely changed about Malfoy. Instead of the usual sneer he always wore, Malfoy’s face was bland and expressionless. He was paler than the ghost floating behind him. His white blond hair was long and hung in his face. His eyes were not the evil, steely gray ones Harry remembered so well; they were eyes that were dull and lost. Harry couldn’t help but have the feeling that he was looking into the face of a corpse. Besides, he wasn't flanked by his usual cronies.   
  
“Malfoy,” he murmured. “What the  _hell_  happened to you?”  
  
Malfoy just stared at him.  
  
“I don’t think that’s really any of your business now, is it Potter?” he replied coolly.  
  
He appeared to be unarmed, and free of insults. Harry couldn’t help taking advantage.

“Where are Crabbe and Goyle this year?” he asked sarcastically. “Failed, did they?”  
  
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. Harry could see the dark circles surrounding his eyes, raccoon-style.  
  
“You won’t be seeing them,” he muttered. “They aren’t coming back. They have decided to serve the Dark Lord as Death Eaters. Following in their father’s footsteps.”  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes too. It was bound to happen. Though why Voldemort would be willing to recruit two inept sixteen year old boys, he would never know. Voldemort was better off hiring the people who sang Elle’s bubblegum pop music.  
  
“What about you?” Harry asked cautiously, knowing that he was treading in dangerous waters. But he had to know. “What about your father?”  
  
He hadn’t really expected Malfoy to answer, and was taken aback when he did.  
  
“My father is dead,” he stated coldly. “Murdered by Voldemort for, ah, insubordination. My mother has gone into hiding. And as for me, I will _never_ be a Death Eater.”  
  
Harry stood quiet for a moment. “You’ve changed,” he said slowly.  
  
“People change, Potter.”  
  
Harry seriously doubted this. “Even you?”  
  
Malfoy stepped forward, his face hard and set. “I have seen a lot of things this summer. People…being tortured. I’ve seen firsthand what dark magic is capable of,” he hissed. “Is that not enough to change a person?”  
  
And with that, he swept out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry standing by himself.  
  
Harry stared after him for a while, at a loss for words. He really didn’t know what to make of the situation with Malfoy.  
  
He went to go retrieve his books, and when he finally returned to the common room he went straight up to bed. After the peculiar encounter with Malfoy he didn’t feel like talking to anyone, not even Elle. What things could Malfoy be talking about? What had happened to Malfoy’s father? Was it because Lucius had failed to retrieve the prophecy?  
  
After hours of mulling this over, he still came up with nothing, other than the fact that Harry once again was probably responsible for the death of another.   
  


* * *

 

On Saturday, the whole school was practically buzzing about the ball that night. Harry and Ron got tired of constantly discussing it, so in the afternoon they left to go and practice some Quidditch.  
  
Elle and Hermione must have grown tired about discussing the dance as well, because after a while they came out to join them, accompanied by Ginny. They all grabbed their brooms and practiced with the boys.  
  
Soon though, Hermione and Ginny left to go get ready, but Elle and the boys stayed out until it was a half hour before the Halloween feast was set to begin. Elle flew to the ground as fast as she could and dashed up to the girl’s dormitory, her face all sweaty and her hair sticking up.  
  
“Hermione!” she yelled in a panic.  
  
“What?” Hermione yelled back.  
  
“I need your help!”  
  
Hermione, her hair already done, laughed and went over to Elle.  
  
“That’s what you get for trying to act cool in front of Harry,” she said gently, leading her friend over to the bed to sit down. “I’ll do your hair for you. But you’re in charge of makeup.”  
  
“Thank you,” Elle replied gratefully, relaxing as Hermione started to brush her hair. “And I was NOT trying to look cool.”  
  
After their hair and makeup were done, and their dresses carefully put on, Elle, Hermione, and Ginny went down the stairs to greet their dates. Ginny had, out of the goodness of her heart, agreed to go with Neville, and her red hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail. She wore a simple, aqua blue dress with tiny green sequins, and looked really grown-up.  
  
Hermione’s hair hung long and straight for once, and she had curled Elle’s hair and twisted it into a bun, but some curly tendrils had managed to escape and framed her face.  
  
Harry and Ron were waiting at the bottom as all three of them descended the stairs. Ron had gotten new dress robes, which, to the happiness of all, were free of lace. Harry had on black dress robes, and had tried to smooth out his hair earlier, but to his dismay it still refused to be controlled. He was forced to leave it the way it was.  
  
He gazed up at the three girls, and his stomach did a major somersault as he looked at Elle. He had never seen her so dressed up before, and the sight was, to him, absolutely breathtaking.

Harry again had the feeling that the floor had dropped out from underneath him. As she came to stand in front of him Harry had to take a deep breath in order to steady the unexpected nerves and sensations that had suddenly arose.  
  
Ginny walked off to find Neville, but Ron stood still, staring at Hermione.  
  
“Wow, Hermione, uh…you look really beautiful,” he said, turning the deepest shade of red yet.  
  
“Thank you,” she smiled, her cheeks tinged with pink. “You look really nice too.”  
  
They both grinned their stupid grins. Harry cleared his throat.  
  
“Wow,” he said, looking Elle up and down. “You look horrible.”  
  
Elle laughed. “Thanks, you look awful too.”  
  
Harry grinned, and Elle glanced at the three of them. “Shall we get going?” she asked.  
  
Ron courageously took Hermione’s hand as they walked slowly ahead of Harry and Elle. Harry, determined not to be outdone, extended his arm.  
  
“Milady,” he said, in an old-fashioned voice.  
  
Elle laughed and wrapped her arm around his. They followed Ron and Hermione out of the portrait hole and towards the Great Hall.  
  
It looked spectacular, even more beautiful than the Yule Ball had looked. Burning Jack O-Lanterns were hanging in midair, emitting sweet scents of cinnamon and caramel. Orange and gold fairy lights twinkled on the walls and sparkled beneath their feet, and elaborate fountains emitting silver water stood majestically in every corner.  
  
Glitter was pouring down on them as they crossed the threshold, and Elle gleefully raised her hands, covering herself in it, her whole body dazzling under the lights. Instead of the usual house tables, multiple round tables had taken their place, and on the far side of the room where the teacher’s table usually stood was an elevated, purple-carpeted stage.  
  
Harry, Elle, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all shared a table. Soft music was playing in the background, and the stars shining through the enchanted ceiling seemed to be brighter than ever.  
  
They all glanced down at the menus in front of them and spoke aloud whatever they most desired to eat, which immediately appeared on their plates. Everyone dug in, and Harry could tell that the house elves had outdone themselves this time around; the food was absolutely delicious.  
  
Once they were all stuffed, and the chattering in the hall had picked up a bit, Dumbledore walked onto the stage. He was wearing robes of a burnt orange.  
  
“Welcome!” he announced. “And happy Halloween!”  
  
Everybody erupted in cheers.  
  
“At this time, I would like to welcome our musical guests, the Phoenix Tears!”  
  
The Hall burst into applause once more, as a band consisting of three wizards and one witch joined Dumbledore on stage, carrying musical instruments. As the guys set up their guitars, the woman walked forward and Dumbledore moved aside to let her use the microphone. She had short, spiked, bubblegum pink hair, had a lot of piercings, and looked like she could be Tonks’ cousin.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, in a surprisingly soft and breathy voice, and instantly broke into a fast paced song, her band rocking out behind her.  
  
Ron took Hermione’s hand again, and they immediately spun onto the dance floor. As the floor filled up with students, Elle looked at Harry, and before he could do anything, she grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the wall. She had an amazingly strong grip.  
  
“What are you doing?” he shouted to her over the music, panicked at the thought of being forced to dance so soon.  
  
“Just having a little fun,” she shouted back, grinning.  
  
“Do you know how to dance?” he yelled, feeling a little worried.  
  
“Of course not!” she laughed. “Do you?”  
  
“Why yes, I happen to be an expert. In fact, every night I sneak out and attend dance lessons,” Harry deadpanned. “But I’d watch your feet just in case.”  
  
They danced to a couple of fast songs, each of them bumping into people along the way. They weren’t very coordinated, and after a while they were forced to stop and take a break.  
  
They walked over to a few chairs that were lined up against the wall, and Elle sat down, taking off her shoes.  
  
“My feet are killing me,” she winced, throwing aside her heels and massaging her feet.  
  
“You’re welcome. I’ll get us something to drink,” Harry offered.  
  
He went off in search of refreshments, and Elle sat by herself, looking around the room. She smiled to herself as she observed Ron and Hermione, who had yet to get tired, dancing in a corner. Then she spotted Ginny, who caught her eye and came over to sit down next to her.  
  
“Hi,” said Elle, happy to have a companion.  
  
“Hey,” Ginny said, very out of breath.  
  
“Where’s Neville?” Elle asked, looking around.  
  
Ginny shrugged, “He’s been acting really weird,” she said vaguely, glancing around nervously. "Uh, Neville, I mean."  
  
Elle became confused. Was she really talking about Neville, or someone else? “What do you mean? What’s wrong?” she asked.  
  
She followed Ginny’s gaze over to some blond boy, who was standing in a dark corner of the room all by himself. “Who’s he?” she questioned curiously.  
  
Ginny shook her head. “Nobody,” she stated unconvincingly.  
  
Elle was still confused, but she didn’t want to interfere with Ginny’s business. She was just about to ask whether or not Ginny was enjoying the dance when Harry came back, carrying drinks.  
  
“Thanks,” Elle said, taking her glass and downing it in one gulp.  
  
“Hey Ginny,” Harry greeted, taking a drink as well. “Having fun?”  
  
“Yeah,” she said distractedly, standing up. “I’ve got to go.”  
  
She left without another word, and Harry and Elle both stared after her.  
  
“What’s up with her?” he asked Elle. She shrugged.  
  
Harry sat down next to her, drinking his butterbeer more slowly. After a few moments, the fast song came to a stop, and a slower, more romantic one began to play.  
  
They continued to watch as students paired off, each couple beginning to slow dance with each other. Ron, to his delight, had his arms around Hermione, and even Neville had managed to meet back up with Ginny.  
  
Elle gave a little sigh, and leaned back in her seat. She busied herself by playing with her bracelet, careful not to look at Harry.

Ron caught Harry’s attention from the dance floor and pointed at Elle, mouthing, “Ask her, you moron!” Hermione grinned, nodded enthusiastically, and gave Harry a thumbs up.  
  
Harry gulped, his heart beating quickly. The song would be over soon; it was now or never.  
  
Slowly, he stood up, and sort of cleared his throat. Elle gazed up at him in surprise.  
  
“Come on,” he said, cracking a smile and holding out his hand.  
  
Elle looked at him, her eyes twinkling playfully. “Are you sweeping me off my feet, Potter?” she asked accusingly.  
  
Harry shrugged. “I might be,” he responded sheepishly.  
  
Elle’s face grew red, but she smiled and took his hand, allowing herself to be escorted to the center of the dance floor.  
  
Harry slowly put his arms around her waist, and Elle carefully laid her hands on top of his shoulders. They began to move around in small, slow circles. Elle, still barefoot, was even shorter than Harry, but that didn’t stop her from bravely gazing into his eyes. Her heart fluttered, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to look away.  
  
They kept dancing leisurely, passing all the other couples as they made their way around the room. Ron caught Harry’s eye and gave a small wink. 

Finally, they paused right under a brilliant patch of moonlight, and together they gazed up at the stars.

“It’s beautiful,” Elle whispered.

Harry nodded, starting down again at Elle. “Yes, extremely,” he said softly.    
  
Elle moved her hands upward until they were wrapped around Harry’s neck. Harry swallowed hard, peering down at her.  
  
“I’m, um, really glad you’re here with me,” he whispered gently.  
  
She looked back at him. “Truthfully, there’s no one that I’d rather be with," she replied. "Even if you are a terrible dancer."  
  
Harry laughed and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m so glad you moved here,” he murmured.  
  
Elle bit her lip and smiled. “Me too.”   
  
They both gazed at each other, hearts beating furiously, all thoughts of friendship thrown out the window. Their faces were, once again, inches apart, and Harry bravely leaned down towards her face, waiting for his lips to meet hers. Elle closed her eyes, tilting her head willingly…  
  
Just then, a rustling sound interrupted them and they immediately looked up, startled.  
  
A large white owl had whooshed past, headed straight for Dumbledore. Other couples looked up too, as the bird landed on Dumbledore’s shoulder and handed him a letter.  
  
They both kept watching, and to their astonishment Dumbledore stood up, with a very grave look on his face. He marched over to Harry and Elle, who quickly took their hands off of each other and stepped apart. Ron and Hermione were looking over at them curiously.  
  
“Elle, Harry, you better come with me,” Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
Harry and Elle exchanged bewildered glances, but followed Dumbledore out of the hall. Ron and Hermione stared after them, utterly confused.  
  
Once they had left the hall, Harry spoke up.  
  
“Sir, what’s going on?” he asked.  
  
“We are going to my office,” Dumbledore replied. “I need to speak with you two."  
  
Elle looked up, worried. “Why?” she asked, startled at the look on his face.  
  
Dumbledore stopped and turned towards them. “I have just received some urgent news. Lord Voldemort is planning to attack Hogwarts.”  
  



	15. The Plan

“What?” Harry and Elle cried out at the same time, both sliding to a halt.  
  
Dumbledore sighed, and continued walking. “I’m afraid it’s true. Follow me into my office.”  
  
Harry and Elle shared worried glances, before scrambling to catch up with Dumbledore. Elle, still barefoot, was trying hard not to trip over her dress.  
  
They walked in silence, until Dumbledore whispered the password to the stone gargoyles, and they all stepped onto the moving staircase. Elle gazed around the office in awe as soon as they entered, but Dumbledore went right to his desk and sat down. He conjured two comfy armchairs out of thin air, and motioned for them to sit down. Elle couldn't seem to stop staring at Fawkes, and all the whirring silver instruments. Harry gave her a slight nudge.   
  
Elle cleared her throat. Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at her, and she smiled weakly.  
  
“Um, what exactly do you mean by Voldemort’s planning to attack Hogwarts? Is he, like, coming here right now?” she asked.  
  
Dumbledore took a deep breath.  
  
“Allow me to explain,” he said. “As you know, I recently sent Hagrid on a secret mission for the Order. Well, that mission was to act as a spy. Over the summer, we discovered Voldemort’s hideout.” He let out another sigh, before saying, “Hagrid was able to gather some very valuable information and he found out that Voldemort’s plan was to gather up his allies and attack Hogwarts. His most recent discovery was that Voldemort plans to do this a lot sooner than expected.”  
  
Elle and Harry stared at him, dumbfounded.  
  
“How is he planning to attack Hogwarts exactly?” Harry wondered. “Where’s his hideout?”  
  
Harry thought he saw, for the tiniest instant, a slight smile flick across Dumbledore’s face. But he must have imagined it, because when Dumbledore spoke again his voice was very grave and hollow.  
  
“Well, as soon as Hagrid found out his plan, he informed me immediately. From what I gathered, Voldemort intends to travel to Hogsmeade in the dead of night, accompanied by Death Eaters and Dementors. He’ll enter the school through the Forbidden Forest, with the Dementors blocking the school’s entrances, letting nobody escape.”

He adjusted his spectacles, his face pensive. “As for his hideout, I am afraid I cannot tell you where that is. He fled to a new hideout the day before Hagrid returned. No one knows where he could be now.”  
  
Elle looked a little scared, and when she spoke up her voice shook slightly. “Why does he want to attack Hogwarts?” she asked, somewhat fearfully.  
  
“Well,” Harry said. “He’s been after me ever since I was born, he’s probably been after you ever since he killed your parents, and if he kills Dumbledore, then he’s free to do whatever he wants. We’re the only ones who stand in his way.”  
  
Elle stared at him. Dumbledore nodded in agreement.  
  
"Gaining Hogwarts, and getting rid of me, would give him the utmost control and power over the wizarding world."  
  
“Oh,” she said simply, looking down. Again, she didn’t ask Harry how he knew that Voldemort had killed her parents. “How did Hagrid find out about all this without being seen?” she asked Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore smiled a thin smile. “A fabulous invention, if I do say so myself, that he managed to get from a joke shop at a reduced price.” He paused. “Extendable Ears.”  
  
Harry grinned, remembering how the very same invention had come in handy for him, Ron, Fred, and George when they had tried to eavesdrop on Order meetings.  
  
“When exactly are they planning to do all this?” Harry asked.  
  
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. “Well, that’s what the letter I just received was about,” he said. “Voldemort’s estimated time of arrival is unknown, but is expected to be very soon...he had mentioned taking action before students vacated for the holidays. That’s why it is very important that we prepare our own plan of attack, while we still have the upper hand. The Order has put devices around the school, which will alert us when Voldemort is on his way. But since that could be any minute, we must be as prepared as possible.”  
  
“Just tell us what to do,” Elle said. Harry looked at her in surprise, but she avoided his gaze.  
  
“Well, what I think we should do is extend an invitation for the whole school to join the D.A.,” Dumbledore suggested.   
  
“The what?” Elle asked.  
  
“Dumbledore’s Army. It’s a defense group for students that me, Ron, and Hermione started last year,” Harry explained to her patiently. "That was when the Ministry tried to interfere at Hogwarts, and wouldn't let students learn proper Defense Against the Dark Arts. So, some of us took matters into our own hands."  
  
He turned to Dumbledore. “But why invite the whole school?”  
  
“It is our duty to give every student, sixth year or above, the chance to defend themselves. Plus, it’s about time the D.A. became public. Whomever is interested may join, but I will leave it up to you, Harry, to decide when the meetings will be held and what to teach. I will attend the first meeting, and explain to everyone what I have in mind for our plan of attack. Also, tomorrow morning I will inform the rest of the school about Voldemort’s imminent arrival. Parents will want to be alerted, and younger students will need to be evacuated. We must move quickly from there,” Dumbledore clarified.  
  
Harry nodded. “What about the students who don’t join the D.A.?” he asked. “The ones who aren’t able to leave? I know some muggle-borns have had to go into hiding.”   
  
Dumbledore looked grave. “We will do our best to protect them,” he said seriously.   
  
Harry and Elle both nodded again, and the room fell silent. Harry couldn’t help thinking that if Voldemort succeeded in taking over Hogwarts, nowhere else in the world would be safe.  
  
Harry then looked over at Elle. She was looking down, her face full of thought and fear. He remembered back to just an hour ago at the dance, and reflected with dismay how they had been unpleasantly interrupted for the second time.   
  
After allowing them a few moments to gather their thoughts, Dumbledore dismissed them from his office. Elle walked out, but before Harry could follow, Dumbledore called him back.

“Forgive me,” he said softly. “I am afraid I interrupted a very important moment between you and Miss Levine back there.”

Harry shook his head. “We’re just friends,” he clarified to Dumbledore, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Besides, this is more important- we want to know what’s happening, and we want to fight.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Nothing is more important than friendship, Harry,” he said, with a shadow of a wink.

As Harry and Elle walked back to the common room in silence, neither knew exactly what to say to the other.  
  
When they reached Gryffindor Tower, Ron and Hermione were waiting up for them. It was very late, and the dance was long over. They both jumped up as soon as Harry and Elle entered the room.  
  
“What happened? Are you two alright?” Hermione asked, her face panic-stricken.  
  
“What’s going on?” Ron interjected quickly.  
  
“Calm down,” Harry said, holding up his hands. “We have a lot to tell you.”  
  
The next hour was spent telling Ron and Hermione what Dumbledore had told them, and discussing what sort of plan Dumbledore could possibly come up with to keep Voldemort from taking over Hogwarts. 

Finally, Elle turned to Harry in mild exasperation. “Is this what your life at Hogwarts is always like?” she asked. “Defeat and repeat?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Sort of,” he said wearily. “Except, Voldemort usually waits until the end of the year before he tries to kill me.”

When they finally decided to go to bed, it was two in the morning, and Harry tried not to wake Dean, Seamus, and Neville as he pulled the hangings around him.   
  
He rolled over, letting his thoughts take over. Visions of Dumbledore’s grave expression, Ron and Hermione’s worry, and Elle’s fear swam in front of him, colliding and multiplying, obstructing his vision. He tried to tell himself that things would be all right, and not to think about the fact that the prophecy might come true sooner than he thought.  
  



	16. Dumbledore's Army

The next morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elle got up and rushed into the Great Hall, anxious to see what Dumbledore was going to tell the school. When they entered and sat down, Dean and Seamus were already sitting there, holding hands with Lavender and Parvati. They looked up as the four of them arrived.  
  
“Hey, where did you guys go during the dance last night?” asked Seamus, letting go of Parvati’s hand and reaching for the syrup.  
  
“Uh, Dumbledore needed to talk to us,” Elle answered uncertainly.  
  
Lavender looked up nosily. “About what?”  
  
“Well, you’re about to find out,” Harry said, looking in the opposite direction.  
  
Everybody spun around as they saw Dumbledore stand up from the teacher’s table and clear his throat. It was very unusual for him to be making a speech on a random Sunday morning, so the Hall fell silent. Harry looked around at the other teachers, and saw that their faces looked grim and serious.  
  
Some students grew nervous at the sight of the stern look on Dumbledore’s face. Once Dumbledore was certain he had everyone’s attention, he began to speak.  
  
“I have a very important announcement to make,” he started. The students exchanged worried looks with each other. “Forgive me for being dramatic, but there is no other way to say it. Lord Voldemort is planning to attack Hogwarts.”  
  
An instant uproar arose. People began frantically shouting and conversing with their neighbors, and others just sat still, staring at Dumbledore with frozen expressions. After a few minutes, Dumbledore raised his hand and everybody grew quiet once more.  
  
“Now that we got that out of the way,” he said, in attempted calm. “Until I receive word of exactly when he plans to arrive, we will prepare ourselves as much as possible. For those of you not willing to sit around and wait helplessly, there is an excellent defense group at this school called Dumbledore’s Army. I suggest that anybody with a desire to help defend the school join at once. Professor Lupin and myself will be chaperoning the group, and it will be taught by Harry Potter.”  
  
The students swiveled around in their seats to look at him. Harry saw many of the old D.A. members winking in his direction.   
  
“If you wish to join,” Dumbledore continued. “The first meeting will be held tonight at seven o’clock in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. If you don’t, the Hogwarts Express will be waiting at Hogsmeade Station at that time to take you home. Sixth Years and under will have to leave; those who cannot go home, and are underage, will receive instructions from your Head of House. No student is to be left unprotected.”  
  
The Slytherins broke into an angry uproar, while most everyone else gathered up their things and left the hall without finishing their breakfast. Harry could see lots of panicked faces. First years were scrambling to the owlery, no doubt running to write letters to their families, but Harry couldn’t see the point in going home…Hogwarts, no matter what anyone might think, was still safer than anywhere else. The older students rushed past him, talking quickly and looking very pale.  
  
Harry and the rest left the Great Hall, and decided to escape the panicked hordes of students by taking a walk around the lake. It was easier than trying to do homework, at least. As they sat down on the grass, Harry tried to figure out what he was going to teach everyone that night. Would anyone even listen to him?  
  
“The D.A. will be different from our days practicing in the Room of Requirement,” Ron said. "You know, in secret."  
  
Hermione nodded. “Besides, the Room of Requirement wouldn’t nearly be big enough to fit the whole school.”  
  
Harry stared at her. “Do you really think the whole school will show up?” he asked uneasily.   
  
Hermione shrugged. “Well, maybe not the Slytherins. But word gets around fast. I’m sure the meeting will be very crowded.”  
  
Elle smiled at Harry.

"I can't wait to see you as a teacher!" she exclaimed, trying, as always, to lighten the mood.   
  


* * *

 

  
They didn’t do much of anything for the rest of the afternoon. After lunch, Hermione and Ron went off to the library to do some “homework”, and to Harry’s dismay, they were holding hands. Harry and Elle, wisely choose not to tag along, decided to go and visit Hagrid instead.  
  
After fielding questions from numerous students about the D.A. all afternoon, Harry met back up with Ron and Hermione. As soon as it was time, they all headed up to the empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

After waiting for about five minutes, the door opened and students started filing in. At first it was just the usual D.A. crowd, but then Harry saw some new, timid faces enter. Lupin and Dumbledore arrived last, and when Harry was sure no one else was coming, he decided that he’d better start. Like Hermione had predicted, no Slytherins had shown up.  
  
“Uh, hi,” he started, a little hesitantly. “I’m glad you all decided to come. Since no one knows how many meetings we’ll be able to fit in, we’ll start off this one by going over stuff we did last year, so that everyone can get caught up. We’ve got to move fast though, because we don’t have much time. Now before we start, does anyone have anything specific that they want to learn?”  
  
Someone entered the room, momentarily distracting Harry. A blond, pointy-faced someone.  
  
“Malfoy?” Harry asked, stupefied.   
  
“What about a plan?” Malfoy asked in a bored voice, striding right in front of Harry and crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” What he really wanted to ask was,  _why are you here?_  
  
Lupin stood up from the other side of the room. “I think what he means, Harry, is what exactly are we going to do to stop Voldemort from taking over this school?”  
  
Harry stopped for a moment to think. He hadn’t really come up with a plan yet.

Fully aware of the fact that all eyes were on him, he cleared his throat and said, “Um, does anybody have any ideas?”  
  
Silence. He cast his friends a pleading look.  
  
Hermione cleared her throat. “Well, um, Voldemort is going to try to enter the school through the Forbidden Forest, right?” Harry nodded encouragingly. Eyes turned towards her instead, but she continued, unabashed. “Well, maybe we should all go into the forest and try to form a sort of human barrier, so that Voldemort can’t get through without attacking us first. And when they do attack us, we can fight back.”  
  
Harry sighed. “It’s very risky. We could all end up getting killed.”  
  
Some people in the room were starting to look nervous; as if they wanted to help fight, but weren’t willing to get killed in the process.  
  
Lupin chose to speak up again. “I think that, with the proper training, all of you combined will be able to handle a bunch of Death Eaters from entering the school grounds. It’s Voldemort we need to worry about, obviously. He will not hesitate to murder anyone who stands in his way. The thing you all need to ask yourselves, is, are you willing to risk your lives for this? I want you to be absolutely sure before you decide. If not, then I suggest you leave this room at once.”  
  
Nobody left, and after a few minutes, Elle spoke up.  
  
“I think we should try it,” she said, looking up at Harry. Harry grinned at her.  
  
“Me too,” said Ginny. “We can take on the Death Eaters; You-Know-Who is useless without an army.”   
  
Ron and Hermione both nodded, and one by one every single person in the room was in agreement. Even Malfoy.  
  
Harry spoke up again. “Right then. It’s decided. We’ll meet again tomorrow, and the next day, same time, same place, until Voldemort arrives.”  
  
He squared his shoulders and took out his wand. All others followed suit.  
  
“Let’s get started.”

* * *

 

Thankfully, Voldemort seemed to be taking his time, and so for the next few weeks the D.A. continued to meet every day. Harry showed them a bunch of new spells, Lupin demonstrated a multitude of new curses, and after they had mastered some of the harder charms and jinxes, they began to form their exact positions and plan of action.

Harry thought that they at least stood a chance, and was consoled by the idea that as long as Voldemort was taken off-guard, they would have an advantage.   
  
One day, Elle asked Harry for help on some spells. She wasn’t very experienced in curses, and so Harry stayed late with her that night for some one-on-one practicing.  
  
Elle did much better away from the rest of the group (she was very self-conscious of others seeing her make a mistake), and Harry instructed her patiently, guiding her hand and murmuring tips into her ear, again and again and again, until he was confident that she had got it right.  
  
They kept at it till midnight, and by the time they left the classroom the corridors were deserted. The castle seemed still and silent, and had been a lot emptier ever since Dumbledore’s announcement. Harry began walking back to Gryffindor tower, but stopped when he realized Elle wasn’t following.  
  
“Coming?” he asked, turning around to glance at her.  
  
Elle sighed, and then smiled. “Yes. It’s just…I’m not really ready to go to sleep yet. All those curses got me sort of wound up.”  
  
Harry grinned. “I know what you mean. Come on, follow me.”  
  
Laughing, Harry took Elle’s hand and they raced through the halls, not stopping until they reached the doors leading out to the school grounds. They burst through, making entirely too much noise, and made their way to the empty Quidditch pitch.  
  
They stopped when they reached the field, both pausing to catch their breath. Elle tucked her hair behind her ears and looked around. The night sky was clear and sparkling; the grass was clean and fresh under their feet. Voldemort and his allies seemed a million miles away.  
  
“What are we doing out here?” Elle asked.  
  
“I think it’s time we see those beater skills,” Harry said, as Elle put her hands on her hips indignantly. “Accio Firebolt!”  
  
The broomstick zoomed into his hands, and Elle stared at it, unable to keep the admiration out of her face.  
  
“I didn’t want to admit it to you before,” Elle said. “But that’s a really great broom.”  
  
Harry glanced at her. “You don’t…I mean, you wouldn’t…want to go for a ride, would you?”  
  
Elle looked up, running her hand along the broom’s smooth surface. “I don’t know,” she said, surprised. “Is it safe?”  
  
“Of course it’s safe!” Harry insisted. “Besides, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”  
  
Elle smiled and took a deep breath. Harry swung himself onto the broom, and held out his hand. Elle accepted, and got on behind him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist.  
  
“Ready?” Harry asked. Elle nodded.  
  
“Hold on tight.”  
  
He kicked off from the ground, and together they soared into the air. Even with the added weight, the Firebolt was as superb as ever. Harry swooped around the hoops once and took Elle for a lap around the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Elle held on tightly as Harry dipped downwards, her hair fanning out behind her in a golden wave.  
  
“Can your broom make it up there?” Elle asked, pointing to the top of the astronomy tower.  
  
Harry grinned. “As you wish.”

He tilted the broom upright and they flew towards the highest point of Hogwarts. As they reached the landing, Harry hopped off the broom and turned around to help Elle down as well. Together, they walked to the edge of the tower and sat down, enjoying the gentle breeze and the silence of the grounds. The Firebolt hovered in midair nearby, emitting a warm, soft glow.  
  
Elle sighed, gazing at the few lights still burning in the castle windows. Their knees were aligned, shoulders just barely touching.  
  
“I can see now why you love Hogwarts so much,” Elle said softly. “It’s amazing. I never dreamed I’d be going to a place like this.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Harry. “It’s funny, I didn’t think it could get much better. Until, of course, you came.”  
  
Elle stared at him, and they both laughed. “It’s weird to think that this could all be gone,” she said, looking away again. “If Voldemort succeeds…Hogwarts could be destroyed.”  
  
“He won’t,” Harry said firmly. “Don’t think like that. If I thought like that, I don't think I could have made it this far.”  
  
Elle nodded. "You ARE a really good teacher," she admitted to Harry. "You know your stuff."  
  
Harry gave her a smile. "And so will you," he assured her. "Just give it time."   
  
They were silent for a long while, enjoying the breeze and each other's presence. Eventually, they climbed back onto the broom, and Harry steered them back to the Quidditch field.  
  
“Thanks for the ride,” Elle said as she hopped off. “If Voldemort fails, we’ll have to do this again sometime.”  
  
Harry nodded earnestly. “It’s a plan.”  
  
Elle grinned, and together they made their way back to the school. Harry didn’t chance taking her hand again.  
  


* * *

 

  
Along with their D.A. meetings, Dumbledore decided to let Quidditch carry on, so that the school would still hold some illusion of normalcy- despite students being taken home by their parents left and right. Besides, if any of Voldemort’s supporters realized that Dumbledore was aware of the Dark Lord’s plans, then it would be very bad for them indeed. So, with all this in mind, the Gryffindors teamed up nightly after the D.A. meetings, and before they knew it, the first game of the season had arrived: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.  
  
Harry hadn’t been paying much attention to Quidditch, but being the captain, he couldn’t let his team lose. So on the day of the match, they all walked mightily out onto the Quidditch pitch to sounds of scattered applause. It echoed eerily in the mainly empty stadium.   
  
The game started soon after, and the players were off. Harry kept a close eye on Elle. She looked as if she were taking all of her frustration and fear out on the poor bludgers, and as she swung at them, Harry was surprised that they didn’t smash into a thousand pieces.

Harry resumed looking for the snitch, but couldn’t help glancing up again as he saw Malfoy brush past Elle, causing her to grip her broom tightly as she spiraled slightly to the left.  
  
“Hey!” she shouted at him angrily. With an aggravated glare, Elle swung a bludger in his direction. Malfoy turned around just in time, and it narrowly missed his face by inches.  
  
With a little smirk on his face, Malfoy flew back up beside her and called out, “Now, that’s not very nice!”  
  
As he flew away once more, Elle gave him a confused glance and soared over towards Harry.  
  
“What was that all about?” Harry asked, as cheers from crowd the sparse crowd erupted beneath them. Gryffindor had scored a goal.  
  
Elle didn’t answer. “Who was that?” she asked, swinging absentmindedly at a stray bludger.  
  
“Draco Malfoy,” Harry stated sourly. “Slytherin. He’s the one always making snarky remarks during the D.A. meetings.”   
  
Elle raised her eyebrows at his tone. “Big time bastard?” she assumed.  
  
“You have no idea.”  
  
She grinned. “I better get going,” she said, as she watched the Slytherin beater send another bludger her way.  
  
She began to fly away, but changed her mind and hung back for a split second. “By the way,” she said, pointing Harry towards a spot of glinting gold near the ground of the stadium.  
  
Harry looked in the direction of where she was pointing. She winked at him, and Harry, smiling slightly to himself, dove towards the ground.  
  
He caught the snitch and pulled himself upright, just as the stadium, mostly full of Gryffindors, erupted in applause. His team landed around him, looking ecstatic. But just as they were about to embark on a couple of celebratory rides around the pitch, Harry spotted McGonagall striding onto the field.  
  
 _Uh oh_ , Harry thought.  _This can’t be good._  
  
“Attention students and staff!” she called out, looking alarmed but composed. “All non-D.A. members are to head to the Great Hall immediately! Those of you in the D.A., please report to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Do not, and I repeat, do NOT leave the school grounds.”  
  
She instantly assisted Hagrid in ushering students out of the stands. The stadium was filled with alarmed shouts as everybody stood up to go to his or her destination. Some kids were running towards the school, others huddled with their friends, too frightened to move. 

Harry caught Elle’s eye, and she went to stand next to him. She was trying her best to appear brave, but her quivering lip gave her away.  
  
Harry gave her a reassuring smile. Elle bit down hard on her lip and looked up at him, and for a moment they forgot about the screaming students running past them.  
  
“Don’t worry,” he told her calmly. “Everything will be fine.”  
  
Elle smiled a small smile.  
  
“Let’s go,” she said, taking a deep breath. They caught up with Ron and Hermione, and before they knew it they were heading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.   
  



	17. The Attack

Harry and his friends entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. As they waited for everyone to arrive, Elle slipped out of her Quidditch robes. Underneath she had on jeans and a black tank top and hoodie. Her hair was already up in her usual messy bun. Harry pulled off his own robes, revealing his almost identical outfit of jeans and a black t-shirt. Not exactly Death Eater-worthy material, but at least they wouldn’t stand out.  
  
Everybody arrived. Draco Malfoy came in last. Once Lupin and Dumbledore had entered, Harry stepped into the middle of the room.  
  
“All right, this is it,” he began, feeling as though he were giving a another pre-Quidditch game pep talk. “We’ve prepared hard for this, and I know that you guys are ready.”  
  
He gazed around the room. Every single person looked serious, even Luna Lovegood. Ron nodded triumphantly; Mrs. Weasley had been sending him howlers every day for the past couple of weeks, begging him and Ginny to come home, but neither of them had listened.  
  
Dumbledore came up to him and said, “Harry, the other students have been given instructions to take cover in the Great Hall. Voldemort is on his way here as we speak.”  
  
Harry nodded. “Okay,” he said, facing the room once more. “You all know your places. We stick together as much as possible, got it?” Nobody objected, and Harry took a deep breath. “Let’s move out.”  
  
Everybody got into a line, two to a row. Hermione and Ron stood next to each other near the back, and Harry and Elle went to go stand behind them. Lupin and Dumbledore lead the way, and the last person in line was Malfoy, who stood by himself. As they left the room, Harry turned to Draco, who stood right behind him.  
  
“Malfoy,” he said in a threatening voice. “If you try anything even the least bit dodgy, then I swear I will rip out your throat with my own bare hands.”  
  
Malfoy grimaced. “Potter, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”  
  
“You have given me more than a thousand reasons not to trust you, Malfoy,” Harry answered at once.  
  
Malfoy cocked a grin. “I swear on my father’s grave, that tonight, you can trust me.”  
  
“Prove it,” Harry hissed, his eyes reduced to slits.  
  
Harry turned back around and didn’t say another word, not even to Elle, as they walked out the castle doors and across the lawn to the Forbidden Forest, where it was already growing dark. Once everyone was outside the entrance to the forest, they stopped.  
  
“Okay,” Harry said again. “I’m going to need about ten people to come with me deeper into the forest. The rest of you will position yourselves around the edge, so that nobody will be able to enter the school grounds without getting past you. Who wants to come with me?”  
  
Ron, Hermione, Elle, Neville, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati all agreed to come with Harry…and to his great surprise, so did Malfoy. The rest of the students formed a line that ran outside the entrance to the forest, just as Harry had instructed. They all got out their wands.  
  
“I’ll stay here with them,” Lupin offered, going to stand next to Cho, his wand also out.  
  
“And I’ll go with you,” said Dumbledore calmly to Harry.  
  
Harry couldn’t help sighing with relief. Having Dumbledore on their side was definitely a good omen. He nodded towards his own group, and all twelve of them plunged into the darkening forest.  
  
They walked quietly for about thirty minutes, getting deeper and deeper into the forest until the tangled tree branches overhead completely blocked out the sunset sky. Harry decided to lead the group this time. As they kept going, he heard a small crack and a loud “ouch!” coming from Elle’s direction, and his heart immediately jumped into his throat. He ran towards her.  
  
“Elle, are you all right? What happened?” he asked sharply, looking around for any sign of intruders.  
  
“Oh, nothing…I just broke a nail, that’s all,” she said, looking frustrated. She sucked on her fingernail before taking it out and shaking it. 

Hermione looked over at Harry and shook her head in dismay.  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, and Ron rolled his eyes. Heartbeat returning to normal, Harry and his friends continued walking.  
  


* * *

 

  
After another twenty minutes or so, Harry came to a halt. The forest was completely dark now, so dark that the moon and stars were completely invisible. But they were in the middle of a clearing, so Harry figured this was a good place for them to wait.

They all stood there with their wands out, barely breathing, none of them daring to make even the slightest sound. Harry’s senses seemed to be extra sharp; he found himself jumping at every shadow, every snap of a branch, and every intake of breath.  
  
They waited for what seemed like hours. Harry’s nerves were beginning to fade a little, and he began to grow impatient. He was just about to check the time on his watch, when a sharp noise from far away grabbed Harry’s attention. He listened closely, just to make sure it wasn’t Elle breaking another one of her nails. It sounded to him like footsteps.  
  
Harry caught the others’ attention and put a finger to his lips. They all looked towards him, and Harry motioned for them to hide. Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, and Parvati all chose to hide behind a couple of trees, while Ginny, Draco, Hermione, and Ron all hid behind a large peony bush.  
  
Elle spotted a tiny cave off to the side and motioned for Harry to follow her in there. Normally, Harry would have been uneasy about entering a cave where a strange and dangerous creature might be dwelling, but he went to go with her instantly. He looked around for Dumbledore, but couldn’t spot him.  
  
Once they entered the cave, Harry and Elle both kneeled down and gazed out of the opening to see what was going on. As the footsteps got closer, Harry held his breath, and he could feel Elle do the same. After about five minutes, the footsteps stopped, and as he looked outside he saw about fifty Death Eaters, standing there with their wands out. Each and every one of them wore masks, and were dressed entirely in black. None of them move or spoke.  
  
And then, Harry saw him. Gliding towards the center of the Death Eaters, so smoothly that he looked almost supernatural, was Lord Voldemort.  
  
Harry heard Elle gasp loudly, and thinking fast, he quickly put a hand over her mouth to silence her. She quieted down, but he could still feel her shaking.   
  
Voldemort turned towards his Death Eaters. He nodded, and half of the Death Eaters walked away. Some went to the right, others to the left. Harry knew just where they were headed and prayed that his fellow D.A. members were ready for them.

Now there were about fifteen Death Eaters left standing before Voldemort, waiting for his command. Harry lowered his hand from Elle’s mouth but put a finger to his lips, reminding her to stay silent. He tried to ignore the burning in his scar.   
  
“Come,” hissed Voldemort. “We will go straight, and enter the school through the front doors. I do hope Dumbledore is up to having visitors.”  
  
Some of the Death Eaters chuckled, and Harry felt sick listening to them laugh.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes and whispered to Harry, “This guy can’t be serious…”  
  
“Shhh!” Harry whispered back. Elle shut up, but not before Voldemort began speaking again.  
  
“We will reunite with the Dementors, once we leave the forest,” he said, turning around again. “This way.”  
  
When he and the Death Eaters started moving forward slowly, Harry leaned over and murmured quietly in Elle’s ear, “3…2…1…”  
  
“Now!” he shouted, and they both jumped out from inside the cave. As soon as they did, the others emerged from their hiding places, holding out their wands. The looks of shock upon their enemies’ faces were priceless.  
  
“Well, kill them!” Voldemort shouted, quickly overcoming his alarm. Two Death Eaters started immediately in Harry and Elle’s direction, but they were ready.  
  
“Stupefy!” they both shouted, and the Death Eaters fell to the ground.  
  
As if that were an alarm, everyone began to shout spells. All around them Death Eaters were ruthlessly going after the students, expelling curse after curse. Thankfully, Harry’s friends seemed to have their heads together, and curses were flying every which way.  
  
Harry saw Ginny fall to the ground after being hit with a jinx, and as she struggled to get up he noticed another Death Eater come up behind her. He ran towards her and immediately stunned the perpetrator. After the masked man hit the ground, Harry leaned down to help Ginny up.  
  
“Thanks,” she said breathlessly, brushing herself off.  
  
“No problem,” he replied, and they both ran off. Every single person was battling a Death Eater now, and as Harry ran to help his friends he had to duck several times just to avoid getting hit with a spell or curse. Death Eaters reenergizing from being stupefied were now getting up off the ground, and Harry watched in horror as three of them shook their heads and instantly hurried towards Elle, who was standing alone near the center of the mayhem. They quickly surrounded her, and within moments had her trapped.  
  
Harry went to go help her, but at that moment a hooded figure flew up from the ground and came right toward his face. He and the Death Eater locked eyes for a moment, and an icy, venomous gaze stared back at him before Harry angrily rolled up his fist and punched him right in the jaw. Sometimes, magic just wasn’t enough.  
  
The man let out a soft groan and fell back down again. Harry, amazed that he actually had been able to punch that hard, looked down and grinned a little. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be helping Elle, and turned towards where he had last seen her.  
  
Elle dropped her wand on the ground and kicked two of the Death Eaters in the face. She turned towards the third one and kicked him…this time, not in the face.

He keeled over, harmless for the moment. Elle looked down at them and she picked up her wand. Apparently, she had been following Harry’s example.  
  
Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she noticed Harry staring at her and smiled.  
  
Harry was impressed. “Wow…that was…cool,” he said.

“Thanks,” Elle said, breathless, but beaming.

“You can kick really high.”

“I know, I used to take gymnastics classes…”

Shouts and screams erupted behind them, interrupting their mid-battle chat. Elle chewed on her lip and looked behind her, her face turning pink.

“Um, I think we should…”  
  
“Oh,” Harry said, remembering that they were supposed to be fighting. “Yeah, right. Catch you later then.”  
  
She grinned, before taking off to help Neville. Harry shook his head, gazing around at all the madness. Everybody seemed to be handling him or herself pretty well, and the floor was rapidly becoming littered with unconscious Death Eaters.

But Harry frowned. Something wasn’t right. Where was Voldemort? And where was Dumbledore?  
  
He backed up slowly, wondering if he should go and find them, when he bumped into someone. He turned around and saw Malfoy.  
  
“Don’t move,” Malfoy said sharply, before Harry could speak.  
  
Harry froze instinctively. Malfoy raised his wand over his head, and before Harry could ask what he was doing, shouted, “Petrificus Totalus!”  
  
Harry ducked, and the spell hit the Death Eater that had been silently lurking behind Harry. Harry spun around to face Malfoy again, and Malfoy sighed.  
  
“Trust me now?” he snarled. “Do me a favor Potter, and try not to do anything stupid.” He ran off.  
  
Harry watched him go, and then heard a scream come from the other side of the forest. He instantly turned around and saw a Death Eater, cornering Hermione. It appeared that he had seized her wand.  
  
Harry shouted “Expelliarmus!”  
  
The man flew backwards, and Harry caught Hermione’s wand in his hand.  
  
Handing it back to her, they both stopped to look around. There were only a few Death Eaters left to fight now. Most of the D.A. members were sporting bruises and were bleeding; some were limping and others were clutching their arms or legs. But overall, everyone was still standing, and it didn’t look like any lasting damage had been done.  
  
“Come on, let’s go find Ron and Elle,” Harry said to Hermione, but then stopped at the look on her face. She was white, and without speaking, she shakily pointed to a spot behind Harry.  
  
Harry, with an extreme feeling of apprehension, slowly turned around. Voldemort was standing there, with a disgusted look on his face as he surveyed the state of his Death Eaters. Looking towards him with a steely glint in his eye, Voldemort raised his wand, and with a casual flick, Harry found himself immobilized from the waist down.   
  
“Hermione, run, quickly!” Harry hissed, trying to move his feet, but unable to wrench them from the ground.  
  
Voldemort vanished. Harry jerked his head around desperately, looking to see where he had gone, before glancing to the right and swallowing hard. Elle was nearby, busy helping Neville off the ground.

Before Harry could shout out a warning, two Death Eaters instantly appeared, came up from behind and grabbed her, silencing her with their wands so she couldn’t scream.  
  
“No!” Harry shouted, but there was little he could do, as he was still glued to the ground. Nobody else seemed to realize that he was stuck.  
  
Elle kicked her arms and legs wildly but was trapped in their grip, as they dragged her off into a deeper and darker part of the forest.  
  
“Hermione!” Harry shouted desperately.  
  
Hermione immediately freed him of the jinx. He made to go after Elle, but before he could get to her another large Death Eater blocked him. Harry, his tolerance dangerously low, rose his wand to attack, but the Death Eater was faster. Ropes shot out of the end of his wand, wrapping themselves around Harry’s wrists and legs. 

Harry fell down, wriggling to try and set himself free. A second later, Hermione fell down too, trapped under the same ropes as Harry.  
  
Thankfully, just as all hope seemed to be lost, Ron appeared and stupefied the Death Eater. He then bent down and untied the ropes that were binding Harry and Hermione.  
  
“Come on!” Harry shouted, as soon as he was on his feet. “They took Elle! We have to find her!”  
  
They ran off. When the three of them turned the corner into a darker, deeper clearing, they stopped at once. Elle was pinned up against a tree, shaking like mad. Voldemort hovered over her, his wand practically touching the tip of her chin. Her lips were bleeding and her arms were bruised, suggesting that she had been thrust against the tree forcefully.   
  
At the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Voldemort’s attention was briefly diverted.  
  
“Ah, Harry,” he said calmly. “We meet again. Don’t you think these little meetings of ours are getting rather…tiring?”  
  
“So kill me,” Harry said, in the same unsettlingly calm tone. “And get it over with.”  
  
"No, Harry!” Elle cried desperately.  
  
She and Harry locked eyes, and he felt a wave of emotion wash over him. Voldemort looked back and forth between them, deeply interested.  
  
“Let her go,” Harry said bitterly, without taking his eyes off Elle. “It’s me you want, not her.”  
  
Voldemort smiled a nasty, vile smile. “Do not worry, your turn will come next.”  
  
“Harry, you idiot, just forget about me!” Elle screamed. “Go! Run! I’ll be fine!”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere!” Harry shouted back.  
  
“No!” Elle yelled frantically. “If you die because of me, I’ll…”  
  
Voldemort silenced her with a wave of his wand. “Stupid girl,” he whispered. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your parents, you know. I won't be letting you get away as easily this time.”  
  
Elle’s face paled. Voldemort laughed.

“Your parents thought they could form a group to stand against me, and they failed. You’ll be joining them soon, to help pay for their mistakes. Crucio!”  
  
The curse hit her right in the chest and she instantly let out a bloodcurdling scream, breaking the silencing charm. Harry watched in horror as Elle bent over, her face screwed up in agony and her eyes shut tight.  
  
Harry couldn’t take seeing her like this a second longer. Before he knew what he was doing, he ran and knocked Voldemort onto the floor. The wand flew out of his hand, and Elle stood upright at once, gasping and breathing heavily.  
  
Voldemort stood up and grabbed his wand before Harry had a chance to take it. Harry hurriedly looked towards Ron and Hermione.  
  
“Get Dumbledore,” he mouthed to them. They hurried away, and as soon as they left a Death Eater appeared out of nowhere and came to Voldemort’s side.  
  
“Goyle,” Voldemort said. He pointed towards Elle. “Make sure she suffers. It is time to take care of the boy who lived.”  
  
Goyle walked off towards Elle, and Harry could hear him give her the Cruciatus Curse again. More screams quickly followed.  
  
Harry wished desperately that he could help her, but Voldemort was now cornering him. Harry had nowhere to run.Before Harry could reach for his wand, Voldemort raised his.  
  
“Avada Kedavra!” he shouted. A blinding green light filled the area. Harry dodged the curse by a split-second, his heart beating frantically.  
  
“Let us lay off the games, shall we?” Voldemort said silkily. “Allow me to kill you and get this over with, just as you suggested.”  
  
Harry shook his head. “I never said I planned on making it easy,” he responded, craning his neck to see what was happening to Elle. Her screams were growing faint.  
  
“I see,” Voldemort said darkly. “And who is going to help you this time?”  
  
“We are!” a voice shouted behind Harry.  
  
Harry and Voldemort both looked up. There, a few feet away, stood Dumbledore, along with Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy.  
  
“I should’ve known,” Voldemort said, gazing at Dumbledore. "How did you know I was coming, Dumbledore?"  
  
Dumbledore walked towards him and raised his wand. "I know the way your mind works, Tom. The battle is over,” he said. “Your army of Death Eaters and Dementors have been beaten. And unless you plan on taking over this school all by yourself, I suggest you leave at once.”  
  
Sparks of fury shot from Voldemort’s wand as he glared. “You have not defeated me, old man,” he said softly. “I will return.”

And with that, Voldemort disappeared in a cloud of smoke.   
  
Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Dumbledore stood there, staring at the spot where Voldemort had disappeared. All were silent.  
  
An annoying cackle interrupted their thoughts.

“Elle,” Harry said suddenly, startling the others.  
  
He ran towards her. Goyle still had her under the Cruciatus curse, and her face was screwed up in pain as she screamed through the silent torture. Harry pushed Goyle and kicked him to the ground, snatching his wand out of his hand.  
  
Elle’s face relaxed, but her legs became weak and she slid to the ground. She was red in the face and breathing heavily.  
  
“Elle, are you all right?” Harry asked, bending down so that they were eye level.  
  
“I think so,” she said shakily, one of her hands clutching her side and the other pressed against her forehead. “I’m sorry for calling you an idiot,” she whispered weakly, closing her eyes. “But you shouldn’t have stayed…you could have gotten yourself killed…”  
  
“It’s okay,” Harry said quickly. He turned around and saw that Malfoy was staring at Goyle.  
  
“Goyle?” Malfoy asked in disbelief, looking him up and down.  
  
Harry felt an intense hatred for Goyle, hatred that didn’t even come close to the kind he had felt for Malfoy. Harry turned towards Ron.  
  
“Ron,” he said quietly. “Look after Elle for a minute, will you?” He jerked his head toward Goyle. “I’ve got to take care of him.”  
  
Ron bent down next to Elle, and tried to help her stand up. Harry faced Goyle and screwed his eyes up in concentration. He raised his wand.  
  
“This is for what you did to Elle,” he said darkly. But before he could actually shout out a curse, Malfoy looked Goyle straight in the eye and shouted,  
  
“Avada Kedavra!”  
  
There was a rush of emerald light, and soon Goyle was lying on the floor, stiff as a board, an expression of fear upon his face.  
  
Malfoy looked down at his wand in horror.

“I can’t believe it,” he said slowly. "I've never...that was the first time..."  
  
Harry shook his head. “He deserved it,” he muttered bitterly. "I wouldn't beat myself up about it too much if I were you."   
  
Malfoy nodded, though still stared at the wand in his hand as though it had acted of its own accord.   
  
“Come quickly,” said Dumbledore, gazing down at Goyle’s lifeless body, but offering no objections. “We must go back to the others.” He peered down at Elle. “Can you walk?” he asked gently.  
  
Elle, still breathing heavily, closed her eyes, and then collapsed without warning. Ron caught her before her head hit the ground, and Harry and Hermione knelt down beside her.  
  
Harry started to panic. “What happened to her?” he cried out, to no one in particular.  
  
Hermione grabbed hold of Elle’s wrist. “It’s okay Harry, she’s still alive,” she said, feeling her pulse. “She was under that curse a very long time. It’s a miracle she’s not dead.”  
  
“We must get her to the castle, quickly, and find the others,” Dumbledore insisted. “She won’t be the only one to collapse.”  
  
They all nodded. Ron stood up, and Harry bent down to pick up Elle. She was very light. Gently, he hoisted her up from the ground.  
  
Without another word, they all turned and headed out of the forest, Elle lying unconscious in Harry’s arms.  
  



	18. Aftermath

As they walked out of the forest, everybody remained quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Harry tried to sort out the bits and pieces of the evening in his mind, holding tightly onto Elle.

The forest was quiet now; it was hard to believe that just a few moments ago the atmosphere had been thick with spells and shouts. Every once in a while, they came across an unconscious Death Eater strewn across the ground, and stepped over him carefully. None of them bothered to look down at the face and identify the victim.  
  
It took a few minutes for them to reach the clearing; Harry hadn’t realized how deep into the forest they had actually been. As they stepped forward, Harry caught sight of Ginny, Neville, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, and Seamus. Neville was sitting on the ground, holding onto his ankle. The others had cuts on their faces and looked pretty shaken, but for the most part they were all right. Everyone looked up as Harry, Dumbledore, and the rest entered.  
  
“Are you guys okay?” Ginny asked, staring at Malfoy.  
  
“What happened?” asked Seamus nervously, looking at Dumbledore.  
  
“Everything will be fine,” Dumbledore said reassuringly. “Voldemort is gone for now. Come, we’ll gather the others and head back to the castle.”  
  
Ginny helped Neville stand up, and they followed Dumbledore toward the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
They finally reached the end of the maze of trees. The sky was instantly lit with stars, and a peaceful breeze seemed to be filtering through the grounds. It was there that they found the rest of the D.A., each looking the worse for wear. Lupin stood off to the side, looking worried, but when he saw Dumbledore, Harry, and the rest of them emerge, his expression cleared.  
  
"Any trouble with the Dementors?” Dumbledore asked conversationally.  
  
Lupin shook his head. “They did show up, as we had expected. I’ve never seen a more aggressive bunch…if they had the chance, they would have performed the kiss on every single one of us.” He glanced at Harry and grinned. “Luckily, we had an excellent teacher. We all produced a perfect Patronus, which was enough to drive the Dementors away.”  
  
Lupin eyed Harry and his friends wearily.  
  
“Who did that to her?” he asked, looking down at Elle.  
  
Dumbledore sighed. “He showed up, Remus.”  
  
Dumbledore gazed around at the other students, who were all looking at him with wide eyes.  
  
“Well, we have won for now. Voldemort is gone.”  
  
Everybody cheered at the sound of this. Students high-fived and hugged each other. Even Neville attempted to hop up and down on his wounded ankle. Harry remembered a few months ago when they were in the Department of Mysteries, and knew that Neville was more capable of handling injuries than he had originally thought.  
  
Harry shifted Elle, careful not to drop her. He watched her carefully till he could be certain he saw the rise and fall of her chest. He didn’t know what he would do if she stopped breathing.   
  
Soon, everybody quieted. Dumbledore faced them.  
  
“I am extremely proud of you all. You have displayed true bravery and loyalty tonight, far more than I could ever hope for.” He smiled. “I suggest that you all return to the castle, and get some rest. For those who faced the Dementors, I recommend a large heap of chocolate frogs. Neville, you should get that ankle checked by Madam Pomfrey,” he added, nodding at him.  
  
The students began walking back up to the castle. Dumbledore turned back to Lupin.  
  
“Remus, will you kindly inform Minerva that the danger has passed, and all students should report back to their dormitories? We will also arrange transport on the Hogwarts Express for those students who wish to return to school.”   
  
“Of course,” Lupin said, and he too walked away. Dumbledore, finally, turned his attention to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy.  
  
“Harry, you of course will come with me to the hospital wing. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, and Ms. Granger, will you kindly return to your dormitories for the remainder of the evening?”  
  
They all nodded. Harry could see that Ron was holding Hermione’s hand again, and she was squeezing tightly back.

Dumbledore surveyed the three of them before they left.  
  
“You three are very brave,” he said, looking each one in the eye.

Malfoy got a strange look in his eyes, as if he were unsure whether to act pleased or appalled. It seemed as if he were still processing his use of the killing curse on his former friend. Harry wanted to say something to him, but didn’t know what. After a moment, they turned and left.  
  
Once they were gone, Harry followed Dumbledore all the way to the castle and up to the hospital wing. When they got there, McGonagall, Snape, Hagrid, and Professor Sprout were milling around. They all shot Harry curious looks as he arrived carrying Elle, but Dumbledore raised his hand for silence before they could ask any questions.

Madam Pomfrey was bustling about, handing out different potions and shouting orders. Once she spotted Dumbledore however, she pushed her way through the crowd and immediately showed him and Harry to a private room in the back.  
  
Harry gently laid Elle down on the bed and stood back to look at her. Her hair had come loose from its messy bun and was hanging limply around her face, streaked with dirt and leaves. One strand of hair covered her eyes, and Harry absentmindedly brushed it away.  
  
There was a soft rustle of noise, and Harry looked up to see Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Hagrid in the entranceway.  
  
“Is she alright?” McGonagall asked, looking at Elle. “What happened, Albus?”  
  
Dumbledore remained silent as Madam Pomfrey quickly checked over Elle.

“She’ll be fine,” the nurse told them briskly, after examining her pulse and temperature, and then running her hand over Elle's body with her wand. “Extensive time under the Cruciatus Curse can lead to brain damage, but everything appears normal. All she needs is a good night’s rest. She can stay here overnight, and I’ll she how she’s doing in the morning.”  
  
Harry thought of Neville's parents, whose brains were permanently damaged thanks to the curse, and was immensely grateful that Elle would be okay.   
  
Madam Pomfrey left the room to give them some privacy. Dumbledore faced the other teachers.  
  
“Come Minerva, Severus, Hagrid; I will explain everything outside.”  
  
The teachers nodded quietly and left the room, and Dumbledore turned to Harry, who stared back at him uneasily.  
  
“Sir,” he began. “What if something happens to her during the night?”  
  
Dumbledore smiled at him, his expression understanding. “Harry, would you like to spend the night here?”  
  
Harry nodded. There was no time to feel embarrassed. Wherever Elle was, that was where he wanted to be.  
  
Dumbledore conjured up a large, comfy armchair at the foot of Elle’s bed. Harry sat down in it gratefully, suddenly tremendously exhausted.  
  
“Do try to get some rest,” Dumbledore said, before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.  
  
Harry sighed, allowing his head to fall back in the chair. He gazed at Elle, wishing that she were awake. He wanted more than ever to tell her how he felt. He whispered softly, cautiously, “Elle…can you hear me?”  
  
She didn’t move, and only continued to lay there motionless. Harry sighed again. He closed his eyes, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.  
  


* * *

 

  
The next morning, Harry awoke with a start. Blinding sunlight burst into the room through the window, and outside the sky was clear and glorious. Harry put on his glasses and instantly looked over at Elle. Her eyes were still closed, and she was breathing softly in and out. Harry watched her sleep for a few seconds before he heard a noise outside the room. He quickly stood up just as Ron and Hermione entered.  
  
“Oh, Harry!” Hermione said as soon as she saw him, going over to give him a hug. Ron grinned at him.  
  
“Some night, huh?” he said.  
  
“I’ll say.”  
  
Hermione let go, and he looked at them.

“How are you two?” he asked.  
  
“We’re fine,” Hermione said. “We got worried when you didn’t come back last night.”  
  
“I stayed here,” Harry explained. "I...I didn't want to leave Elle alone."  
  
Hermione and Ron raised their eyebrows. Harry was saved coming up with a defense as Madam Pomfrey came into the room. She was carrying flowers, which looked like they had been hurriedly plucked right from the grounds.  
  
“These are from Hagrid,” she said, setting them up along the bedside table and glancing at Elle.  
  
“She should be awake any moment now,” the nurse said perkily, and left the room in a flurry to tend to her other patients.  
  
After a few minutes, Harry saw Elle stir out of the corner of his eye, and he stepped cautiously over to her bedside. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked a few times, staring around the room.  
  
It took a few moments for realization to dawn on her. Once it did, she bolted up in bed, although this seemed to be a bad idea as she visibly winced and placed a hand to her forehead.  
  
“Well. Nice of you to join us,” Harry said, smiling.  
  
She looked at him. “Harry!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around him.  
  
Harry, who hadn’t been expecting this type of reaction, laughed and hugged her tightly, relishing her warm embrace and the comforting feeling it gave him.  
  
“How do you feel?”  
  
Pulling away, Elle rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine I think…I just have this throbbing headache.” She sat up, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “What happened?” she asked, gazing around at the three of them.   
  
Harry grinned and filled her in on the events she had missed the previous evening. When he got to the part about her collapsing, Elle’s cheeks turned red.  
  
“Did I really pass out?” she asked weakly.  
  
“Hey, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Harry said.   
  
“Sure,” she said, smiling and rolling her eyes. “While you’re out there acting like the hero, I get to be the damsel in distress. Lucky me.”  
  
Harry laughed. “I keep telling you, I’m not a hero,” he insisted.   
  
She laughed and shoved him with her foot.  
  
"Seriously though, Voldemort and Goyle could have killed you," Harry said, his smile fading. "I was really worried."  
  
Elle gave him a comforting look. "I'm okay," she promised.   
  
Hermione and Ron grinned knowingly at each other. Ron nudged Harry.  
  
“We’ll leave you guys alone,” he said good-naturedly. Hermione smiled at them.  
  
“I'm really glad you're okay, Elle," she said, giving Elle a soft hug. "See you later,” she called out, as she and Ron left the room.  
  
Once they were gone, Harry and Elle fell silent.  
  
Elle shifted awkwardly and picked at the hospital bedding. A random ray of sunlight crept through the window, illuminating the area around Elle’s bed and bathing the room in a golden glow. Harry looked at Elle again and laughed.  
  
“Look at you,” he said. “You haven’t even lasted till Christmas, and already you’re in the hospital wing.”  
  
Elle sighed.“I must look like a mess,” she said apologetically.  
  
Harry grinned and shook his head. She was ridiculous. He thought Elle looked absolutely beautiful.  
  
“Hey,” she said, as though she had just realized this. “You totally saved my life last night.”  
  
Harry hung his head. “I wouldn’t have had to if I had been smarter. If Voldemort finds out how close we are…and he may already know…you’ll be in a lot of danger.”   
  
“I’m not going to be that girl, you know,” Elle said quietly, unexpectedly.   
  
“What girl?” Harry asked, nonplussed.   
  
“The one you always have to save,” she said. “I’m quite capable of rescuing myself. And of making my own decisions about who I’m close to.”   
  
Harry nodded. “I know,” he replied. “That’s what I keep telling myself. It’s why I can’t bring myself to avoid you.”   
  
Elle smiled, and as they fell silent again she gazed around the room, looking at the flowers. Before he could convince himself otherwise, Harry reached out and nervously took her hand.  
  
Startled, Elle looked down, and then up at Harry. Harry swallowed hard. There were a thousand thoughts screaming in his mind, and his stomach was jumping in all directions. But he knew what he wanted to do. He was sure of his feelings, and he felt that if he didn’t do something about them now, he never would.  
  
“Elle, there’s something I should tell you,” he said.  
  
Elle nodded slowly, wrinkling her forehead in concern. “Okay,” she said. "I was going to say something about the wilting flowers, but I'm glad you brought it up first. They're beautiful though!"  
  
"No," Harry grinned. "Those are from Hagrid." He took a deep breath. “I was so afraid when you got hurt,” he admitted. “I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you, especially because of me.”  
  
Elle smiled reassuringly at him. “Harry, this wasn’t your fault,” she told him sternly. “Besides, I just told you, I’m fine.”  
  
He grinned. “I know you are,” he said. “But there’s something I should have said to you a while ago, before any of this happened.” He took another deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Elle. You’re the one.”  
  
Elle looked stunned, but then her face relaxed, and she broke into a dazzling smile. Her eyes were sparkling, and as she looked Harry in the eyes, she said softly,  
  
“Harry…I think I loved you from the moment I got here.”   
  
No other words had ever made Harry so happy. Both of their faces immediately burned, and he could feel a stupid smile creeping its way onto his face. Before another moment was wasted, Harry leaned in and kissed her.  
  
It was the best feeling in the world. Harry causally ran a hand through her hair and brushed it out of her eyes while they kissed. Elle responded with great enthusiasm, holding his cheek gently with her hand. It felt wonderful, and it was everything Harry hoped it would be and more. Much, much more.  
  
“Wow,” Elle whispered, breaking away and staring at him.  
  
“I know,” he replied.  
  
They sat there for a while, staring at each other, neither wanting to move. Then, Elle spoke up.  
  
“So, I guess we’re a couple now, or something.”  
  
Harry grinned. “Well, I suppose…unless you have another guy waiting for you in America,” he answered, his face suddenly tense.   
  
Elle broke into another smile, and they both laughed.

“I’ll tell him to keep waiting,” she said, rolling her eyes.   
  


* * *

 

Elle was released from the hospital wing later that afternoon, and her and Harry immediately went down to the common room to tell Ron and Hermione their good news. What they found was definitely not what they were expecting.  
  
“Oi!” Harry said, upon finding Ron and Hermione sitting on the floor in front of the fire, snuggling and kissing. “What is going on here?”   
  
Elle held back a laugh as the two of them scrambled to their feet, both of their faces bright red. Ron spoke first.  
  
“Sorry…it’s just…we were waiting for you, and…”  
  
“Save it,” Harry said, but he was grinning. It was kind of hard to get mad when the girl of his dreams had just kissed him. “It took you two long enough!”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, staring at Harry and Elle’s entwined fingers. “You’re one to talk!” she exclaimed, and this time, Harry and Elle shared guilty looks.   
  
Despite everything, the four of them laughed off the incident, and Harry couldn’t help feeling great for the rest of the day. Voldemort was gone for now, he had a new girlfriend, and most importantly, he was in love. What could possibly go wrong?  
  



	19. Christmas

The next few weeks after the attack passed by quickly and, thankfully, uneventfully. Students finally began returning back to school and rumors were being swept around like wildfire; some convinced themselves that this was finally the beginning of the end for Voldemort, while others swore to their friends that there would be another attack on the school any minute, and this time people were going to die.  
  
Goyle’s death didn’t appear in the Daily Prophet, or anywhere else for that matter. Harry had expected some press about the murdered Death Eater, but nobody reported a thing. Because of the lack of news, most people didn’t know about the death of the former Slytherin, but Harry knew; he knew Goyle was dead, and he knew how he had died. He personally thought that Goyle had gotten exactly what he deserved; he couldn't even think of him torturing Elle without cringing. Harry just wondered how Malfoy was coping, though he didn’t dare ask.   
  
The gossip surrounding the attack, however, was nowhere near the gossip that was going around about Harry and Elle. As soon as the news came out that the two were dating, people stared and whispered about them no matter where they went, whether it was class, or Hogsmeade, or the Great Hall. On the other hand, the people they were closest to didn’t seem surprised in the slightest that the “Chosen One” and the “New Girl” were now an item. When Ron had casually mentioned to Dean and Lavender that Harry and Elle were dating, they merely rolled their eyes and muttered, “finally”.  
  
In the week following their first kiss, Harry and Elle were hardly ever out of each other’s sight. However, they weren’t the only ones bitten recently by the love bug. Ever since Ron and Hermione had been caught snogging in the common room, that’s all they ever seemed to want to do. They kissed during their morning greetings, kissed between classes, kissed after classes, and kissed before they went to sleep. Harry knew Ron was enjoying this immensely, but Hermione's lovesick behavior was very unlike her. However, Harry knew his friends had both waited a long time for this and were very happy together.   
  
Harry was already in good spirits as it was, but what made him the happiest was the thought that Christmas break was just around the corner. Thinking of vacation caused him to pay even less attention in class than usual, and even Defense Against the Dark Arts was starting to feel long.   
  
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who felt this way. In the middle of an exceptionally difficult Transfiguration class, Elle let out a loud groan. Professor McGonagall had just landed them with a three-foot essay, due in two days, in which they were to detail numerous transfiguring methods that they had learned over the years.

McGonagall turned around to look at her.  
  
“Did you have something to say, Miss I-always-have-an-opinion-about-everything?”  
  
The whole class snickered. Elle was known for always contradicting McGonagall during each lesson that was given to them. One day, they were instructed to transfigure mice into mousetraps (a rather ironic lesson in itself), and Elle proceeded to give their Professor a lecture on how what they were doing to these poor mice was an obvious act of animal cruelty. This argument lasted a good half hour, but before Elle could contact PETA, McGonagall lost her patience and swore to Elle that the mice, in contrast to what Elle believed, could not feel a thing. Elle finally calmed down, but her little charade left Harry wondering whether Elle really cared about the rights of mice, or if she was just trying to waste valuable class time. Either way, it was very amusing.  
  
Today, Elle resorted to merely sighing in frustration. “Please, Professor,” she pleaded. “It’s almost Christmas! Don’t we deserve a break?”  
  
At this, the whole class nodded in agreement. McGonagall gazed around the room sternly, but relaxed when she saw the pathetic pleading glances of her students.  
  
“Oh, all right,” she grumbled. “Only two feet, then. And just be thankful I don’t give you extra work over the holidays!”  
  
The bell rang, and students gratefully got up to leave, some of them giving Elle high fives. Harry, Elle, Hermione, and Ron headed towards the Great Hall for lunch, but Elle shivered as soon as they stepped into the corridors. She instantly rubbed her hands together, as if hoping to generate some heat.  
  
“Oh please, it’s not that cold,” Ron said, laughing at her desperate attempts to warm up.  
  
“Oh yeah, Ron?” she asked. “Well, I just so happened to grow up in California, where it feels like summer all year round. That’s right, constant sunshine. No need for these!” She waved her mittens in Ron’s face. “I can’t help it if I’m not used to chapped lips and icicles growing out of my nose!”  
  
Ron shook his head. “You’ll get used to it,” he replied, snatching her mittens from her and grinning cheekily. He turned towards Hermione, and the two of them walked a little ways ahead, holding hands. 

Elle stared after them.  
  
“How cute,” she said sarcastically to Harry. Harry shook his head; he knew just how to cheer her up.  
  
“How about a piggyback ride?”  
  
“You can’t be serious- Harry!”  
  
Harry laughed and in an instant had bent over and thrown Elle across his back. She shrieked, but then threw her arms around his neck as he held onto her legs and ran all the way towards the Great Hall.  
  
“Slow down!” Elle called out laughing, her hair blowing in all directions.  
  
“Can’t hear you!” Harry called back to her,  
  
They raced down the long hallway, bypassing Ron and Hermione, and Harry didn’t stop till they had reached the double doors leading into the Hall. A group of Ravenclaws stared as Elle jumped down from Harry’s back, giggling and brushing her hair away from her face.  
  
“Well,” she said smiling. “I’m warm now.”  
  
Harry grinned at the way her dimples caved in so much when she smiled; her cheeks were rosy from the rush of wind.

“I’m just trying to get you in the mood for some sledding later,” he teased, trying to catch his breath.  
  
“Sledding?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “Haven’t I just shown that I’m incapable of even walking?”   
  
Harry laughed.Ron and Hermione came up behind them, grinning and shaking their heads.  
  
“Are you two trying to prove how quirky and fun you are?” Ron asked. “Because, you kind of make Hermione and I sick.”   
  
Elle tilted her head. “Are you okay, Ron? Your lips are blue.”  
  
“Course they are,” Ron replied. “It’s bloody freezing in here.”  
  
They laughed and sat down at their table, piling up their plates with food. Elle spotted Ron reaching for the ketchup bottle, and immediately pointed her finger at it. The bottle zoomed out of his hand and flew into Elle’s.  
  
“Hey!” Ron protested in annoyance.  
  
Elle swiftly poured some of it onto her plate, then innocently handed the bottle back to him. Ron took it angrily.  
  
“I really hate it when you do that,” he grumbled.  
  
Elle shrugged. "I want to practice wandless magic," she said smugly.  
  
"That’s great," said Ron. "But I can pour this ketchup all over your clothes- wandless magic or not." He picked up the bottle and Elle let out a shriek.  
  
"Okay, okay, you win!" she said, holding her hands in surrender.   
  
After they had finished eating, they were just about to head off to their afternoon classes when McGonagall showed up, carrying a sheet of parchment in her hand.  
  
“The sign-up sheet for who will be staying at the castle over the holidays,” she announced, in response to their questioning stares. “Be sure to pass that around.”  
  
Hermione took the sheet and rummaged around in her bag for a quill. She took one out and stared at the rest of them.  
  
“Are we all staying then?” she asked.  
  
Elle nodded quickly. “I don’t want to stay with my aunt and uncle over the holidays. They won’t even put up a Menorah for me.”

The three of them looked at Elle questioningly. Elle shrugged.

“I celebrate Christmas and Hanukah,” she explained.   
  
“We’ll be okay here,” Harry assured her. “Hogwarts is magical over Christmas. And I’ll make sure you get a blazing candle during all eight nights this year.” Elle grinned.   
  
"And my parents are visiting Bill in Egypt," Ron explained. "So I'm staying too."  
  
"My parents are visiting France again," Hermine stated simply. "Which I love, but I've already seen the museums and bookshops there."  
  
Hermione wrote down their names and passed the sheet to Lavender, who barely even glanced at it before passing it down the rest of the table. Only two other people actually stopped to jot their names down.  
  
“Well, it looks like the castle will be empty during the break,” said Hermione.  
  
“Yeah, well, it’s about time we had some peace and quiet,” Ron said happily. “Can you believe it? Only a couple more days and then we’re free!”  
  
They all grinned and left the Great Hall, feeling a bit more cheerful for their next class.   
  


* * *

 

The rest of the week couldn’t pass by quickly enough, and the day before break arrived with great relief. Christmas was only a few days away, and the castle was dressed up in its usual festive décor. Most people wouldn’t be around to enjoy all the decorations, but Harry always preferred the castle this way. With everyone gone, he and his friends got to sit where they liked in the common room, and things overall just felt cozy and peaceful.  
  
Harry was also glad that he had finished present shopping during their last Hogsmeade visit. He had looked with Ron forever to find the perfect present for Elle, but couldn’t seem to find anything good enough that would fit her personality.  
  
After searching for hours, he finally came across the perfect thing in a unique pet shop on a snowy street in Hogsmeade. There on the counter, inside a see-through glass jar, was a tiny butterfly with golden wings.  
  
When Harry asked the clerk about it, she gave him a smile and said, “Those golden butterflies are extremely rare.”  
  
Harry gazed at it thoughtfully. He remembered the butterfly clip Elle loved to wear in her hair, and knew that she would love the real thing.   
  
“How much?” he asked.  
  
When Christmas finally arrived, Harry woke early and put on his glasses. Since he didn’t have to worry about waking anyone, he yelled to get Ron’s attention, and the two of them gathered their gifts, threw some robes on over their pajamas, and went downstairs to the common room.  
  
They waited alone until, at last, the girls finally emerged from the top of the stairs. They both had red and green ribbons woven into their hair (which was probably Elle's doing), and were carrying presents.  
  
Elle spotted Harry. She shrieked “Merry Christmas!” and jumped into his arms, giving him a hug that nearly knocked him over. 

Harry smiled. “Happy Hanukah!” he echoed back, lighting the last candle on a Menorah in the corner with a flick of his wand.   
  
Hermione went over to Ron and they kissed without even wishing each other a happy Christmas. Elle broke them up by saying, “Stop you guys, we’ve got presents to open!”  
  
They sat down and got right to exchanging their gifts. Harry, who wanted to wait till everyone was finished to give Elle his, gave Hermione a homework diary with a cat on the front (that looked suspiciously like Crookshanks), and Ron a book on Quidditch.  
  
Hermione then opened her gift from Ron, which turned out to be a charm bracelet. The charms consisted of very Hermione-ish things, such as books and house elves. Hermione gasped when she saw it, and turned to Ron with misty eyes.  
  
“Oh Ron, it’s beautiful!” she cried out in delight. “I don’t know what to say...”  
  
“How about thank you?” Elle suggested.  
  
Hermione looked at Ron. “Thank you,” she whispered. Ron turned red, but grinned.  
  
Elle got a sly look on her face and murmured quietly into Harry’s ear, “Do you think they’re going to kiss again?”  
  
Sure enough, Ron and Hermione had barely finished expressing their gratitude before they graciously locked lips. Harry caught Elle’s eye and they turned away, trying not to laugh.  
  
“It’s gorgeous, Hermione,” Elle said, admiring the bracelet as it dangled from her wrist. “Here’s my gift.”  
  
Elle’s gift to Hermione turned out to be a small bottle of scented nail polish, which was useful in the fact that it never ran out, and whose color changed every day.  
  
Hermione feigned enthusiasm and thanked Elle a little too profusely. When it was Ron’s turn to open Hermione’s gift, he found that he had received jewelry as well- a gold watch. Ron stuttered his thanks, but thankfully refrained from kissing her over it.  
  
Elle gave Ron a poster of his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, which was at least twenty feet tall. Harry noted that even after Elle had sworn for days that she was going to buy Ron’s present based on her own creative ideas, she had ended up going with Harry’s suggestion anyway.  
  
Harry received a gift certificate to Quality Quidditch Supplies from Hermione, a set that contained miniature models of all the known broomsticks in the world from Ron, and a framed chalk drawing of Hogwarts Castle from Elle.

“I know it’s not much,” Elle said hesitantly. “But you said Hogwarts was your home, and I wanted to draw it properly…” 

“I love it,” Harry said enthusiastically, cutting her off. They both beamed at each other. Harry knew that drawing was one of the few things Elle felt confident about.

Finally, it was Elle’s turn to open her gifts. She opened Ron’s first, which was a big box of Honeydukes candy. Hermione gave her a lovely, carved mirror. Elle smiled and hugged them both.  
  
Harry took a deep breath. Slowly, he reached behind his back and brought out the jar.  
  
Elle gasped, and twisted the jar open. Reaching her hands inside, she brought out the golden butterfly and held it gently in her hands.  
  
Ron and Hermione huddled closer to see it. The butterfly spread its wings, and glittered brilliantly. Elle seemed to be momentarily speechless. Her green eyes were wide, and she could only stare at the delicate creature with wonder.  
  
“Wow, Harry, I…” she began, stumbling over her words. “I would have been happy with just a card…”  
  
She let go of the butterfly, and it flew around the four of them, leaving behind a thin trail of sparkly dust.  
  
Hermione leaned over to Ron and said, quite loudly, “Do you think they’re going to kiss again?”  
  
Elle smiled and gave Harry a small, significant kiss.  
  
"Thank you," she said, smiling at Harry sincerely. "This totally makes up for you guys not having a Thanksgiving."   
  
The butterfly came to land on Elle’s finger, and she carefully placed it back inside the glass jar, where it continued to flutter slowly about. For the rest of the day, she couldn’t seem to stop staring at it.  
  


* * *

 

The day passed by quite pleasantly. The four of them played outside like little children in the snow for a couple of hours. They then visited with Hagrid, and afterwards had a hearty Christmas tea in the Great Hall with the teachers, Dumbledore, and a few other students who had decided to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. The rest of Ron’s family may have been in Egypt, but Ron seemed quite content with staying at Hogwarts with Hermione.  
  
When their delicious turkey meal was over, they all headed back to Gryffindor Tower, and spent the evening examining their gifts in the common room. Harry noticed that Elle couldn’t stop gazing fondly at the golden butterfly, and he could tell that she was already deeply attached to it. Harry made a show of hanging Elle’s drawing up by his bed. Hermione, in turn, kept playing with the charm bracelet while Ron continued to adjust the settings on his watch, which looked just like Dumbledore's.   
  
As it grew later and later, Harry got the hint that Hermione and Ron wanted some time alone. After all, the four of them had been together all day, and the two were barely speaking to Harry and Elle. Instead, they sat there glancing at each other meaningfully. Harry decided to take pity on them. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested to Elle. She nodded eagerly, and summoned her cloak from the girl’s dormitory.

“I’ll follow Hermione’s example and bring some reading material,” she replied eagerly, ignoring the look of surprise on Harry’s face.

Harry and Elle walked around the snowy castle next to each other in comfortable silence. Elle was reading one of her father’s books that she had brought from home, and every now and then, would murmur a passage out loud to Harry. Harry smiled, taking in the sight of the sparkling snow covering every piece of the castle like frosting. He had never heard Elle read before, but it was soothing listening to the sound of her voice. 

After a few minutes, they came to a stop on the bridge, looking out over the Quidditch field and the mountains beyond. Elle closed the book and leaned her head against Harry, pulling her cloak tightly about her shoulders. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back. Harry put his arm around her, and they gazed out over the grounds in silence.

“What’s wrong?” Elle asked softly, noticing the pensive look on Harry’s face.

Harry sighed. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just, with you here, I feel like I’m seeing Hogwarts for the first time. Everything feels new.”

Elle smiled. “Hogwarts is beautiful,” she agreed. “I’ve never seen snow before, and I thought I would hate the cold. But standing here, and being in this castle amongst the ice…it’s magical.”

Harry grinned down at her, feeling elated at the thought that she loved Hogwarts as much as he did.

“It  _is_ magical,” he agreed.

They both stood on the bridge, looking out over the snowy grounds for a long time, until it began to grow dark and they made their way back to the warmth of their common room.

* * *

 

When they returned, it was to find Hermione and Ron cuddled up next to each other by the fire. It was obvious by the looks on their faces that they had quite enjoyed their time alone.   
  
“Why don’t you two go into our dormitory?” Harry suggested to Ron. “You obviously don’t want to spend time with us anymore,” he added, pretending to sound offended.  
  
Ron gave his friend a grateful look. “Yeah, alright,” he said. “How about it, Hermione? It is allowed, you know,” he finished hastily.   
  
Hermione nodded, and they both bade the two of them goodnight before practically running for the stairs. Harry deeply hoped that they wouldn’t do anything  _too_  romantic up there. He turned to Elle, and she smiled back at him.  
  
“If we’re going to sleep down here, we need to be more comfortable,” she said. “Accio blankets!”  
  
A bundle of blankets and pillows flew down from the girl’s dormitory. Wasting no time, they wrapped the blankets around each other and laid the pillows behind their heads, relaxing in front of the fireplace.   
  
Elle turned her head towards Harry. “I know we’re dating and all, but if you make a move during the night, I’ll kill you.”  
  
Harry stretched his arms up over his head. “You know, talking like that is not helping your case at all,” he told her matter-of-factly.  
  
Elle laughed and cuddled up next to Harry. They both lay silently and stared at the crackling fire, which was slowly burning out. A dim glow was cast over the room.  
  
“I think these were the best holidays ever,” she stated softly, her eyes closing. "I thought I would be miserable, spending it without my parents. But I love being here with you."  
  
Harry glanced at the butterfly in the jar next to her. He held her closer, and whispered back, “Me too.”  
  
They cuddled until the fire burned out, and the only light in the room came from the wings of the butterfly.  
  



	20. Fights and Futures

The Christmas holidays ended far too soon, and the castle became noisy and crowded once more as students came back from visiting their families. Once classes had resumed, the teachers began to prepare their students for the upcoming exams.

Harry was glad that he wouldn’t have to take his N.E.W.Ts until seventh year, but tensions were already running high. Hermione was in full on testing mode, ordering everybody to take down as many notes as they could and studying every free minute she had to spare. Elle, as it turned out, was just as bad as Ron and Harry when it came to studying for tests, but out of loyalty to Hermione agreed to crack open a book and at least try. She was smart when it came to testing, but bad when it came to preparing.   
  
The school year soldiered on as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. Harry couldn’t get enough of D.A. meetings, which he insisted on keeping up after Voldemort’s attack. He lived for Quidditch practices, and spending time with Elle. Their next Quidditch match was against Hufflepuff, and Hermione agreed to let Harry, Ron, and Elle have a break from studying in order to practice.  
  
The morning before the match, Harry and Ron sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, talking with high spirits to Dean and Seamus about last minute strategies and tactics. Parvati and Lavender were barely listening, and soon became absorbed in a discussion that involved their new hairstyles. Harry thought that their hair was silly; it looked as though they were both carrying giant beehives on top of their heads. Harry just hoped it wouldn't distract them from the new Chaser maneuvers they had gone over last week.   
  
A few minutes later, Elle waltzed into the hall, and plopped down in the seat next to Hermione. She was dressed a little more appropriately for Quidditch, with her hair pulled back from her face so that she could have full visibility of the field and the other teams' Beaters. She yawned, and without speaking or looking at anyone, reached for the pancakes and syrup.   
  
At her entrance, Parvati and Lavender halted their conversation and inexplicably, threw Elle identical dirty looks. Elle didn’t notice, and continued to drown her pancakes in syrup. When she was done, she glanced up at them and was taken aback by the looks on their faces.  
  
“What?” she asked in curiosity.  
  
Parvati and Lavender stopped glaring, but continued to smirk.  
  
“Nothing,” Lavender answered. She gave Elle a nauseating smile. “Did you have a nice sleep, princess?”  
  
Elle blinked, and stared at Lavender. “Excuse me?”  
  
Lavender turned to Parvati. “Come on, let’s go. We should prepare for the game- unlike some people, we actually take this seriously.” Both girls stood up and made to leave.  
  
“Must be nice to have a charmed life,” Parvati sneered at Elle, before they disappeared out of the Great Hall.  
  
Elle stared after them, bewildered. Dean, Seamus, Harry, and Ron were all looking at Elle in silence.  
  
“Um, does somebody want to tell us what’s going on?” asked Ron, looking back and forth between Elle and Hermione.  
  
Elle shrugged. “I don’t know what their problem is,” she replied, slicing her pancakes into tiny pieces.  
  
Dean and Seamus shook their heads and got up, no doubt compelled to follow their girlfriends.  
  
"See you down at the pitch," Dean said to them a little gloomily as he left.   
  
Hermione sighed, and spoke up as soon as they were gone.  
  
“They’re jealous of you, Elle,” she remarked, as if this should have been obvious.  
  
Elle looked up in surprise.  
  
“Me?” she asked. “Why would they be jealous of me? Do they really think I have a charmed life? Do they know my parents are dead?”   
  
“No, I don’t think they do,” Hermione said seriously. “Oh come on, Elle, don’t pretend like you don’t know. You’re pretty, you’re popular, and you’re dating the famous Harry Potter. Before you arrived, they probably considered themselves pretty special, and now nobody looks twice at them.”  
  
“But that’s not true,” Elle replied. “I mean, I’m not any prettier than they are, and they have way more friends than I do.” She sighed, and stuffed her face with pancakes. “If they’re going to be jealous of anyone, it should be you Hermione,” she said with her mouth full.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so,” she said. “We’ve never really gotten along. The two of them can be really shallow, and they dress like…like…”  
  
“Sluts?” Ron offered helpfully.  
  
They laughed. “Right,” said Hermione. “Although you shouldn't use that word, Ron. And they can be extremely catty.”   
  
Ron glanced at her. "How is saying that any better?" he asked, a little affronted.   
  
Elle grinned. “You’re right, Hermione” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll get them back for this.”  
  
“You will not,” said Harry. “I don’t want anything getting in the way of your concentration today.”   
  
Ron looked at his watch. “Well, no time for revenge now. We better get down to the pitch.”  
  
“See you later,” Hermione waved, as the three of them got up from the table.  
  
In the locker room, Elle made sure to avoid Parvati and Lavender. After they changed into their Quidditch robes, they stepped onto the field to roaring applause and could see the Hufflepuff team standing on the other side. Madam Hooch stepped into the center.  
  
“Captains, shake hands,” she ordered loudly.  
  
Harry promptly shook hands with the Hufflepuff captain, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle signaling the start of the game. Elle mouthed a quick, “Good luck” to Harry before he soared high above the field, searching purposefully for the golden snitch.  
  
The game went smoothly for ten minutes. Harry wasn’t nervous; the Hufflepuff’s brooms weren’t so great, and his team was the best that Gryffindor had seen in a long time, no matter how superficial Lavender and Parvati acted.

Spotting a tiny glint of gold out of the corner of his eye, he zoomed downward to a spot right behind the goalpost. However, a scream from behind distracted him, and he turned around. Before he knew it, the snitch had flown out of sight. Harry groaned and looked around.   
  
It turned out to be Lavender who had screamed. Apparently, Elle had swung a Bludger at her face, and it had nearly hit her. McGonagall threw Madam Hooch a look, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

Harry’s team groaned with aggravation as they landed on the ground, all of them hopping off their brooms. When Harry dismounted, he saw that Elle and Lavender were already standing on the field shouting at each other, both with their hands on their hips.  
  
“How dare you!” Lavender screeched. “You could have killed me!”  
  
Elle laughed. “Kill you? With that beehive hairstyle in the way?”  
  
Lavender’s face turned red from anger. “Coming from the girl with hair the color of dishwater?”  
  
Madam Hooch blew her whistle at them. “Girls, enough! That counts as a foul, deliberate attack of a fellow team member,” she demanded, but they paid no attention to her. The Hufflepuff team looked up, hopeful for a penalty. Harry and Ron exchanged an exasperated look.   
  
Elle narrowed her eyes. “You’re just jealous.”  
  
Lavender glared. “Jealous? Of you? You’re a spoiled brat who gets whatever she wants. I’m surprised you even have friends with that stuck-up nose of yours.”  
  
“I’m surprised you even know how to put one foot in front of the other, Lavender, with a brain as tiny as yours!” Elle shouted.  
  
Lavender opened and closed her mouth in indignation. Both teams were staring at the two girls.

“You’ve been horrible to me since I started here, Lavender, and I don’t know why! If you had been new to my school in California, I would have at least been nice to you!” Elle exclaimed, looking almost on the verge of tears.

“You? Nice to me?” Lavender asked disbelievingly.

“Yes!” Elle burst out. “But you wouldn’t recognize a nice gesture if it hit you in the face, would you Lavender?”   
  
“You’re a bitch!” Lavender said, soft enough for the teachers to miss it, but loud enough for Elle.  
  
It seemed as though Lavender had pushed a nerve. Before Harry knew what was happening, Elle had stormed up to Lavender, and with rather furious force, punched her right in the face.  
  
Lavender stumbled back, holding onto her nose. Elle, on the other hand, was massaging her fist.  
  
Before the teachers could intervene, Lavender threw Elle another dirty look and shoved her with both hands. Elle shoved her back, pushing Lavender onto the ground. Lavender grabbed onto the front of Elle’s robes and pulled her down with her, and soon the two had toppled onto each other, rolling around in the dirt, kicking and screaming. They were shouting so loudly, and calling each other all sorts of names that it hardly sounded as if they were making any sense. Wands were tossed to the side; magic seemed to be the last thing on their minds.   
  
By now what felt like the whole school had gathered around, and the crowds in the stadium were jeering. Lupin broke through the crowd and stood over the two girls.  
  
“Freeze!” he shouted.  
  
When it appeared that they weren’t listening to him, Lupin raised his wand.  
  
“If you two don’t separate this instant, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to hex you both!” he added in a booming voice, finally grabbing their attention.  
  
They froze. Elle was sitting on top of Lavender, pinning her down to the ground. Lavender had a clump of Elle’s “dishwater” hair in her hand, as if she were trying to pull it right out of her skull. Lavender’s nose was already a dark, bluish purple color, and Elle’s cheek was scratched from where it had been clawed by Lavender’s fingernails.  
  
Lupin pulled Elle off of Lavender, though with much difficulty, because Elle had resumed kicking her legs and trying to hurt as much of Lavender as possible. Lavender stood with more dignity, brushing herself off.  
  
McGonagall raged forward. “I have had it with you and your public displays of aggression, Miss Levine,” she shouted, her cheeks tinged with red. “I don’t know how things were at your old school, but I thought you would have learned by now that fighting here is strictly prohibited.”  
  
Harry stepped forward. “But Professor, it wasn’t Elle’s fault. Lavender provoked her…”

“Yeah, Lavender called Elle a…” Ginny began  
  
McGonagall silenced them with a wave of her hand. “Miss Levine, I have no choice but to suspend you from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”  
  
Elle opened her mouth in shock. “I’m being kicked off the team?” she asked in disbelief.  
  
McGonagall nodded, and Lavender and Parvati laughed in delight.  
  
“You know the rules,” McGonagall said, in a gentler voice.  
  
Elle bit her lip and looked up at the teachers. Snape was sneering at her, though Lupin and Hagrid were somewhat more sympathetic. Elle’s eyes began to grow unusually bright, but McGonagall didn’t acknowledge her again. Instead, she turned to the two teams.  
  
“The match is over for today,” she stated to the team members and the crowd of students. Both teams let out sighs of frustration. “There will be a rematch as soon as the Gryffindor team has found a replacement Beater.”  
  
The students began to evacuate the stands and head back for the castle, while McGonagall turned to Lavender. “Sixty points will be taken from Gryffindor for fighting, Miss Brown. You may go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will tend to that nose.”  
  
Lavender nodded, a little embarrassed, and left without another word. The Hufflepuff team departed. Harry walked up to Elle and put his arm around her.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You shouldn’t have gotten kicked off. It wasn’t fair.”  
  
Elle sighed. “It was my own fault,” she replied, eyes focused bitterly on the ground. “I should’ve known better than to start a fight. Oh god, Harry, you must be furious with me, I ruined the match!”   
  
“It’s okay,” Harry said, trying to make her feel better. “I wouldn’t have taken that remark standing down either.”   
  
“That sounds like something my dad would say,” Elle said, smiling slightly. Then she scowled. “Seriously, how does Lavender act that way and not expect me to retaliate?”  
  
Harry scrunched up his eyebrows. “I think that's what she wanted all along, actually. I don’t know. Dean was definitely better off with Ginny.” He smiled encouragingly. “Come on, let’s meet up with Ron and Hermione.”  
  
Elle gave him a small smile and took his hand, but as they both walked over to Ron and Hermione, Dumbledore came out of the castle doors and headed towards them. As soon as Elle spotted him, her face turned pale.  
  
“Oh no,” she whispered.  
  
Dumbledore didn’t look angry, but he didn’t exactly look pleased either. Before he had a chance to say anything, Elle jumped in front of him. “Please sir, I didn’t mean to punch her, I swear! Please don’t expel me!”  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “I am not here to punish you, although you do need to work on controlling your temper,” he said. Elle visibly relaxed. 

“I would, however, like to speak with the four of you. Please follow me to my office.” He noticed the looks on their faces and smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong.”  
  
They all exchanged confused glances, but nonetheless turned to follow Dumbledore. When they got to his office, he ushered them inside and conjured up armchairs for the four of them. When everybody was seated, Dumbledore sat down at his desk and smiled at them.  
  
“How would you four feel about joining the Order of the Phoenix?”  
  
For a moment, everybody just sat there with a look of surprise. Then Ron spoke up.  
  
“You mean you actually want us to join? I thought we were too young!”  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Well, you wouldn’t be doing everything that the older members and trained Aurors are doing, but you would be able to sit in on the meetings, and learn how to defend yourselves.” He grinned. “I think the four of you would make a great asset to the Order, especially after the attack.”  
  
Elle shifted awkwardly in her seat. Harry could tell that she truly doubted herself as being a great asset to anything.  
  
“Not to mention, we can use all the help we can get,” Dumbledore continued. He looked around at them. “Well? What do you say?”  
  
They all looked at each other.  
  
“I’m in!” Harry said at once.  
  
“Me too,” Ron and Hermione replied in unison.  
  
Everyone looked at Elle. She looked uncertain, as if she didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but didn’t want to be left out.   
  
“I’m in,” she agreed, breaking into a smile.  
  
Dumbledore smiled at them. “Excellent,” he said. “We should all arrive at Headquarters in early August. I will send somebody to retrieve you at your residence when the time comes,” he said, looking at Hermione, Harry, and Elle.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Ron said. “I was planning on inviting you guys over to my place for the summer anyway, so we can just leave from there.”  
  
“Really?” asked Elle uncertainly. “Your parents wouldn’t mind having me stay? They don't even know me!”  
  
“Nah,” said Ron. “They love having guests.”  
  
Elle grinned. “I hope my aunt and uncle let me go.”  
  
“That’s okay if they don’t,” Ron replied. “My twin brothers are experts at dealing with tricky relatives…and annoying cousins.”  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged amusing looks, remembering Dudley and the ton-tongue toffee.  
  
“Then it’s settled,” Dumbledore said. “Speaking of your twin brothers, I have already spoken to Fred and George and they both agree to join, as well as your sister. Of course, I asked your mother's and father's permission first.” He opened his drawer and produced a sheet of parchment and a quill. “Now all that I ask of you is just to sign this paper.”  
  
Hermione frowned. “Is it a contract?”  
  
“Not at all,” Dumbledore informed her. “Nor does it contain a jinx, Miss Granger.”

Hermione flushed, but Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled kindly.

“It’s just a list of all the people that are in the Order. Nobody will ever be able to see this except for me. But please, do not sign unless you are absolutely sure this is something you want to do. And though there is not a curse on it, you will not, however, be able to repeat any of the information discussed in meetings to anyone outside the Order."   
  
They all looked at each other again. “We understand,” they responded in unison.  
  
“Very well.” He handed the sheet and quill to Elle, who was closest.   
  
She signed her name without hesitation, and passed the sheet to Hermione, who passed it to Ron, who passed it, finally, to Harry. Once they had all signed, Harry handed the sheet and the quill back to Dumbledore.  
  
“Well, that seems to be in order,” he said, glancing down at the sheet. “Pun very much intended, of course.” He paused, and then handed the sheet back to Elle.  
  
“I would prefer it if you wrote down your full name, Miss Levine,” he said to her quietly.  
  
Elle’s cheeks turned red. “Oh, um, okay,” she said.  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged blank looks.

“I didn’t know Elle wasn’t your real name,” Harry said to her in shock.  
  
Elle sighed. “It’s my nickname,” she explained. "I've only told Hermione."   
  
Ron frowned. “Then what IS your full name?”  
  
“Danielle,” she said, writing it down and handing the sheet back to Dumbledore. “My name is Danielle.”  
  
Harry was taken aback. Danielle sounded different, more mature, and…completely unlike the funny and fiery Elle he had come to know and love.  
  
“If your name is Danielle, then how come everyone calls you Elle?” Harry asked, a little offended that she hadn’t told him this.  
  
Elle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and tilted her head thoughtfully, unaware of the tension in Harry’s voice. 

“My parents said it was to protect me,” she said slowly. “That my identity was the most important thing, and I had to do everything I could to defend it.” She smiled wryly. “It’s not the most original nickname, I know.”   
  
“I like Danielle,” Harry told her.  
  
“I wish I could say the same about Harry,” she teased.  
  
Dumbledore smiled at them again. “I thank you all for making the decision to join,” he said, as they all got up to leave.

Elle though, suddenly turned and faced Dumbledore. He looked at her. “Is there something else?” he asked politely.  
  
“There is,” she said. She swallowed. “Professor McGonagall suspended me from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But since you’re, like, the Headmaster, I was thinking maybe you could ask her to…let me back on the team?” she asked. "As long as I promise to control my temper?"   
  
Harry and Dumbledore shared a look, and he knew they were thinking the same thought; Elle had nerve. Harry shrugged, deciding to let Dumbledore handle this one.  
  
“I promise I won’t get into any more fights, and I’ll even apologize to Lavender,” Elle added hopefully.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. “I’ll talk it over with Professor McGonagall,” he assured her. “After all, there is the Quidditch Cup to consider.”  
  
As soon as the four of them were back among the school corridors, they burst into conversation.  
  
“Well, this certainly has been an interesting day,” Harry said, as they made their way back to the common room. “First Lavender and Parvati show up with beehives on their heads, then Elle beats Lavender up, and then we get appointed to the Order of the Phoenix!”  
  
Elle and Hermione laughed.

“You aren’t mad about the whole name thing, are you?” Elle asked Harry.  
  
“I was, at first,” said Harry. “Truly I’m just a little shocked that you never told me about it.”  
  
Elle looked sincerely sorry. “I just didn’t think it was a big deal,” she replied. “Besides, I’m sure there are loads of things you never told me, Harry James Potter.”   
  
This was true. But Elle didn’t need to know that yet. Harry tried to put the sudden image of the prophecy out of his mind.  
  
They arrived at the common room and spent the rest of the day discussing the Order of the Phoenix, and by evening neither Harry nor Elle remembered their previous discussion.


	21. Summer

The months before the end of the school year seemed to last forever. The weather outside the castle was gorgeous; rays of sunshine, warm breezes, and the way the lake seemed to constantly sparkle made Harry want to spend all his time relaxing outdoors. But instead, with only a few weeks left until exams, he was forced to say in and continuously go over numerous spells and review countless pages of notes. Every night was either spent in the library or in the common room, books and parchment littering the area.  
  
Finally, the first day of exams arrived. They spent the morning taking Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and then after lunch it was on to Divination (Arithmancy for Hermione and Elle) and then Care of Magical Creatures. The next day was Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and then Astronomy at night. On the final day of exams, they had History of Magic in the morning, and then at last they were done.  
  
Five minutes after they were dismissed from their last exam, the four of them journeyed outside and collapsed with relief on the soft grass under the welcome shade of a large beech tree, where they laid back and allowed the pleasant June weather to wash over them.  
  
They stayed under the tree for a while, occasionally speaking, but mostly just daydreaming. Before the exams, Dumbledore had talked to Professor McGonagall, and after a long discussion with Elle about controlling her anger and refraining from getting into fights, she agreed to let her back on the team. This was a huge relief to everyone except Lavender and Parvati. It was a good thing; the following week after Elle had been let back on, the Gryffindors proceeded to beat both HufflePuff and Ravenclaw, thus earning them the title of Quidditch champions.  
  
After about twenty minutes of lying there and relaxing, gazing at the tranquil crystal clear lake, they began to discuss the summer. After all, they would be heading home in a little over a week. 

Elle breathed a sigh as the wind whipped her hair off of her face, finally falling into place along her back. Her hair was much longer now and the bottom of it brushed against the blades of grass. Hermione was sitting in front of her, letting Elle braid her own wavy, chestnut locks.  
  
“I can’t believe the school year is almost over,” Elle said wistfully, tying the bottom of Hermione’s braid with an elastic band, and then leaning back against the tree, rubbing her bare feet into the ground. Hermione leaned back next to her.  
  
“I know,” she replied. “We’re going to be seventh years next year. N.E.W.T. year.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron absentmindedly, picking out weeds that were poking through the earth. “It seems like just yesterday we were scared little first years.”  
  
Harry laughed. “I’m looking forward to leaving the Dursleys. But I bet they’re looking forward to that too.”  
  
“Well, look on the bright side,” said Hermione. “This is the last summer you’ll have to spend with them.”  
  
Harry grinned happily at this prospect. He had waited so long for the moment when he would escape the Dursleys forever, and now it was almost here.  
  
“How soon do you think we can come and stay with you before we go back to Grimmauld Place?” he asked Ron.  
  
Ron grinned. “Well, I would have you guys just come straight home with me from school, but Dumbledore says that you both-” he looked at Harry and Elle “-need to stay with your relatives for at least the beginning of the summer. But don’t worry, I’ll come and get you before we meet up with the rest of the Order.”  
  
“What about Hermione?” asked Elle.  
  
Hermione and Ron smiled sheepishly. “I might be going to Ron’s a little bit earlier. You don’t mind, do you?” Hermione asked.   
  
Harry and Elle shared a glance. Normally, Harry  _would_  mind that his friends were leaving him out, but this time was different.  
  
“Of course we don’t mind,” Harry said. “You two don’t always need us hanging around.”  
  
Hermione and Ron beamed with relief.

“We’ll all be together for the rest of the summer, anyway,” Hermione reminded them cheerfully.  
  
“Yeah,” said Elle, smiling. “Plus,” she added to Harry, “how bad can it be when you have me right next door?”  
  
Harry grinned. He had almost forgotten that Elle was his next-door neighbor now.  
  
They continued to stay outside all day, doing everything from splashing around in the lake to visiting Hagrid, and when the sky began to fade they made their way back up to the school, walking slowly to enjoy to vibrant colors of the sun setting over the castle.  
  


* * *

 

The last week of school went by quickly, and before they knew it, it was the end of year feast. Everyone showed up and had a marvelous time at the feast…all except for Malfoy, that is. After the attack, Harry and Malfoy hadn’t spoken with each other at all, with the exception of passing (rather weak, half-hearted) insults during D.A. meetings and classes.  
  
The next morning found them all waking early and packing up their things before the train left. (Hermione had to literally yank Elle out of bed to make sure that she didn’t oversleep). After they were all packed, they said goodbye to Hagrid and went to board the train, but were stopped by Dumbledore, who reminded them that he would see them in August at headquarters.  
  
They found an empty compartment all the way in the back of the train, and loaded their luggage onto the overhead racks. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his cage, Harry put Hedwig on the seat next to him, and Elle let her butterfly out of the jar. As they sat on the floor talking, they watched the butterfly flutter gracefully around the compartment, and tried to keep Crookshanks from jumping at it as the train sped rapidly away from the castle.  
  
They were soon joined by Neville, Dean, and Seamus and played quick games of exploding snap and wizard’s chess, which Harry saw that Elle was horrible at. After losing an astounding total of five games, she finally decided to forfeit, and Ron was named champion.  
  
The train pulled into King’s Cross Station far too soon. Elle placed the butterfly back into the jar and laid it gently inside her luggage, while Harry gathered his things and picked up Hedwig’s cage. As they departed the train and crossed through the barrier, Harry looked around for the Dursleys, and sure enough, there they were, standing far apart from the crowd and looking quite impatient to get away. He noticed Elle standing beside him, and wondered where her aunt and uncle were.  
  
Then something caught his attention. Or rather, someone.  
  
Standing there, a few feet away from the Dursleys, was an older girl. She was very attractive, with straight, shoulder-length brown hair and high heels paired with a very tight black leather skirt, and a top that showed way too much skin to be allowed. She was smoking, thoughtlessly flicking ash onto Platform 9.   
  
What really caught Harry’s eye weren’t her looks; it was her mannerisms. The way she casually held the cigarette between her black painted fingernails, and then elegantly raised it to her lips to inhale made Harry momentarily mesmerized. Smoke billowed from her mouth as she blew it away, and he watched as tiny glowing embers fell to her feet.  
  
The girl checked her watch, and then, tapping her foot impatiently, glanced over in Harry’s direction. Harry heard Ron and Hermione come up behind him, and he quickly came out of his trance, turning around to look at his friends instead. 

Ron looked up, and instantly stumbled to a stop. His eyes were wide.  
  
“Whoa…who is that?”  
  
Harry laughed a little. Ron looked as if he had just laid eyes on a Veela. Hermione frowned slightly.  
  
“I’ve never seen her before,” Hermione said. “She must be looking for somebody.”  
  
Elle had noticed the girl too, and she looked miserable. Harry suddenly felt bad for staring.

“Elle, I didn’t mean…” he started hastily, but Elle was barely listening to him. A faltering look fell over her face, and she sighed gravely. Harry raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Do you know her ?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.   
  
“Yeah, I do,” Elle replied, looking away. “That’s my cousin.”  
  
Elle looked very uncomfortable. Almost all of King’s Cross was staring at the girl.   
  
“THAT’S your cousin?” Ron asked in disbelief.  
  
Hermione gave him a stern look. “Well, when you’re ready to put your eyeballs back in their sockets, we can go,” she said stuffily. Ron gave her a guilty look.  
  
The girl spotted them and walked over, her high heels making little clickety-click sounds on the tiled floor. She came to a stop in front of Elle. Harry couldn’t believe that this girl was Elle’s cousin. He had always pictured her cousin to be ugly; after all, Dudley wasn’t exactly Prince Charming.  
  
Looking at her cousin, he decided that Elle was the prettier one, but the two did have very different looks. While Elle had an innocent, childlike quality about her, this girl was extremely mature, and she gave off an air of sophistication and aggressiveness beyond her years. There was something dark and mysterious about her, and Harry could tell that she wasn’t a very warm, pleasant person. Even though she was lovely, her good looks stopped when it came to her eyes. Her eyes were brown, but not the kind of warm, friendly brown eyes Hermione had. They were a faded brown, and seemed too ordinary for her face. Harry would prefer Elle’s eyes, sparkling and alive with excitement, any day.  
  
“Come on, let’s go,” the girl said in a bored tone. “I’ve only been waiting here for hours.”  
  
Elle looked uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she said to her cousin meekly, as if afraid of being punished. Harry was surprised- this was coming from the girl who punched Lavender, and never seemed to show any fear.  
  
“Guys, this is my cousin Cameron. Cameron, these are my friends Harry, Ron, and Hermione.”  
  
Cameron barely wasted a glance on them. “Charmed,” she said sarcastically. She turned to Elle. “Listen, I’ll be waiting in the car. If you’re not there in five minutes, feel free to take a cab home.” She flipped her hair, and walked off towards the parking lot, not bothering to help Elle carry any of her bags.  
  
Elle closed her eyes briefly, and then gave her friends an apologetic grin. “I’m really sorry you had to see that,” she said. "We have a, um, complicated relationship."  
  
Hermione gave her a sympathetic smile. “We understand,” she said kindly, glancing to her right. “Oh, there’s my mum and dad. I’ll see you in a few weeks, okay?”  
  
She gave Elle and Harry a hug, and kissed Ron briefly before she left. Harry saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waving at them, and nudged Ron, who said goodbye and promised to bring them over as soon as he could. Then, he too left. Harry sighed.  
  
“Well, we better go,” he said grimly. “I think we’ve stalled long enough.”  
  
Indeed, the Dursleys were motioning for him to follow them out into the parking lot, so Harry and Elle picked up their bags and headed in that direction. Before they got into their separate cars, however, they stopped for a brief moment to share a close embrace.  
  
“Meet me at my house on Monday, after my aunt and uncle have gone to work,” Elle said quickly, her arms around him.  
  
Harry nodded. “Of course,” he replied.  
  
Elle smiled brightly before disappearing inside her cousin’s small, cherry red sports convertible. He watched as Cameron gunned the engine, and the girls sped off. Some of the people in the train station were still gazing after them.  
  
Harry entered the Dursley’s car and slammed the door. The Dursleys ignored him completely as Harry sat in the backseat. The whole ride to Privet Drive was spent in silence.  
  


* * *

 

Elle sighed wistfully as she let the breeze stir her hair and stared at the streets as they zoomed past. She had been away from Hogwarts for less than a day, but already felt incredibly homesick. She hadn’t thought she would ever like it there, but to her surprise, life at Hogwarts was amazing. She had made the most amazing friends, and Harry was by far the greatest guy she had ever met.  
  
Cameron caught sight of her smiling to herself, and slowed down the car to look at her cousin.  
  
“What are you so happy about?” she asked.  
  
The smile faded from Elle’s face as quickly as it had flared up.

“Nothing," she said quickly. She would never admit it to Harry, but Cameron had always been able to intimidate her. They were rivals, and had fought even as little kids visiting each other on school holidays.  
  
Cameron rolled her eyes. “Anything interesting happen at your school?” she asked, but it didn’t sound as though she really cared.  
  
“Not really. A dark wizard attacked us. I got a boyfriend. Oh, and I punched a girl in the face.”  
  
Cameron raised her eyebrows. “Punched a girl in the face?”   
  
“Yeah, she called me a bitch. Are you surprised?” Elle asked.  
  
“Very. You’re such a goody-two-shoes.”  
  
Elle thought this was a bit unfair. Cameron offered Elle a cigarette. “Want one?” she asked.  
  
Elle looked at it in disgust. Was this Cameron’s way of bonding?

“No thanks.”  
  
Cameron shrugged her beautiful, bare shoulders. “Suit yourself,” she replied, lighting another one.  
  
Elle looked at her closely. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked cautiously.  
  
Cameron raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “This is nice?”  
  
“Well, it’s better than the silent treatment I usually receive.”  
  
They stopped at a red light. Cameron smiled and blew smoke out the window, and about five males in the surrounding cars honked appreciatively in response. Cameron lowered the hood and rolled up the window, and without saying a word extended her hand to Elle.  
  
Elle grabbed it, shocked to see a huge diamond ring on her cousin’s finger.  
  
“You’re engaged?” Elle asked in disbelief.  
  
Cameron nodded. “I know,” she said heavily. “Mother and father aren’t that pleased about it, to tell you the truth.”  
  
Elle chewed on her lip. “I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. Do you…do you love him?”  
  
Elle had never seen Cameron so thoughtful before in her life. She didn’t answer the question.

“It was a whirlwind romance,” she said finally.   
  
The light turned green again, and Elle leaned back in her seat and turned the music up, hoping that this would be a sign that the conversation was over. Cameron, however, was not about to let her go this easily.  
  
“Speaking about love…” she said, turning the music down again. “That boy at the train station, was that your boyfriend?”  
  
Elle smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “His name is Harry Potter,” she added, looking quickly to see if this name triggered anything upon Cameron’s memory. It didn’t. “His relatives live right next door to us.”  
  
Cameron scrunched up her face in the way only beautiful girls can when they’re annoyed. “He’s not related to that fat, blond boy who’s always staring at me from behind the kitchen curtains, is he?”  
  
“Must be,” Elle said. “I think that’s his cousin.”  
  
Cameron shrugged. “Turn him into a toad for me,” she said simply. 

Ten minutes later, they were pulling into the driveway.  
  


* * *

 

Harry watched from his bedroom as Elle and Cameron parked and got out of the car. Soon both girls had vanished inside the house. Harry unpacked his trunk, and then went downstairs to grab a snack.  
  
As he stepped into the kitchen, he saw Dudley leaning over the counter and gazing out the window with a pair of Uncle Vernon’s old binoculars pressed up against his eyes.  
  
“What are you doing with those things?” Harry asked loudly.  
  
Dudley jumped, and the binoculars fell to the floor with a thud.  
  
Harry smirked. “I suppose you’ve noticed our new neighbors.”  
  
Dudley’s face turned red, and he bent down to retrieve the binoculars. “I wasn’t looking at those girls,” he said defensively.  
  
“Oh?” said Harry. “Bird watching, were you?”  
  
He laughed to himself as Dudley gave him a deathly glare, before shuffling out of the room in a huff.  
  
Harry grabbed an apple from the fridge, and returned to his room. He opened the window, allowing Hedwig to fly out and get some air. As he leaned against the windowsill, biting into his apple, he heard faint music coming from the house next door. The melody was catchy, annoying, and very familiar…Harry looked to the room located directly across from his, and saw Elle standing there with her window open as well. She caught Harry staring at her and gave him a silly grin.  
  
Harry heard his aunt Petunia calling from downstairs, saying that if he wanted dinner he’d better hurry up and come down before it all disappeared. He waved to Elle.  
  
Her eyes glittered, and she blew him a kiss before shutting her windows and closing the blinds. Harry left his room and walked into the kitchen, thinking how funny it was that last summer he had been too afraid to introduce himself to the wonderful girl next door.  
  
When he sat down at the table, his aunt wasted no time in badgering him. “So, Harry, who was that girl we saw you with down at the train station?” Uncle Vernon grunted in disapproval.

It was by far the friendliest question she had posed to him, ever. Apparently, even this sort of gossip was too juicy for her to resist.  
  
Harry shifted in his seat. “She’s my girlfriend,” he replied hesitantly.  
  
Dudley’s eyes bulged, as he shuffled back into the room. “The girl who just arrived next door today?” he asked, his face green with envy. “You’re going out with her?”   
  
Harry smiled. “Yup.”  
  
He gazed at the look on his cousin’s face, and realized with satisfaction that this was the first time in his life that Dudley Dursley was actually jealous of him.  
  



	22. Alone

Early Monday morning, Harry sat in his room, clothed in a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, occasionally glancing at his watch or pulling back the blinds in order to gaze out the window. He was exceptionally bored; he had spent all weekend inside his bedroom unpacking and avoiding the Dursleys. He found himself sitting around and watching the clock till the hours ticked closer and closer to the moment when he would see Elle again. Two days apart just seemed like too many.   
  
Normally, he would’ve just gone over to her house, but she had given him strict instructions not to come until after everybody had left. After taking a good look at her relatives, he was more than willing to follow her instructions; her aunt and uncle had seemed extremely unpleasant, and he knew from experience that her cousin wasn’t exactly the warm and welcoming type.  
  
Elle never seemed to leave the house. He caught sight of her from time to time while she was in her room, and though she had waved to him, Harry wondered what she did most of the time while she was stuck at home. He wondered if she ever watched her cousin go off, and if she wished she could go out too.  
  
Harry sighed, and glanced at his watch one more time before looking out the window to see if Elle’s relatives had left yet. Uncle Vernon had just left for work, and Aunt Petunia and Dudley were busy, so it was only a matter of time before both him and Elle were able to meet up.  
  
To his relief, he saw a stiff looking woman with a foul expression and a stout man with a little bit of a beer belly (both dressed in dull, gray suits) walk out of Elle’s house and get into separate cars. The engines puttered and ran for a moment, before they both backed out of the driveway and were gone. Harry kept on waiting, and Cameron finally emerged from the house. She was dressed in the uniform from the downtown fast food place and was sucking on yet another cigarette. She hopped into her car, checking out her makeup in the rearview mirror before speeding off down the street with an earsplitting screech. Finally, Elle was alone.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and quickly checked his appearance in the mirror before leaving his room. He tried to go down the stairs as quietly as he could, for he figured that it would be very bad if Aunt Petunia saw him leaving the house and began to question where he was going. He tiptoed past the living room where she was vacuuming, and where Dudley was watching TV while eating a sandwich, and then silently opened the door just enough to slip outside. Once he was out of the house, he closed the door softly behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe.  
  
He crossed the yard and walked right up to Elle’s front door, ringing the doorbell and staring in disbelief at the “Home Sweet Home” floor mat lying under his feet. He could hear the echoing chimes ringing inside the house, and waited uncomfortably in the hot sun for her to answer the door. Finally, he heard scurrying footsteps and sure enough, the door was flung open a few seconds later and Elle was standing on the threshold.  
  
“Hey!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I was wondering when you’d come and see me.”  
  
“Believe me when I say that I was counting the minutes.”  
  
Elle laughed and stepped back. She was wearing a thin, white sundress, and she looked like the total vision of summer with her hair piled atop her head, and her feet tan and bare.  
  
“So, where do you want to go today?” she asked brightly, smiling at him.  
  
Harry shrugged. There weren’t many places they could go while stuck on Privet Drive. He wished that they could grab their broomsticks and fly far away from here, but seeing as how they were trapped in a muggle neighborhood, this just wasn’t possible.  
  
“Um, there’s a small park just down the street,” he said finally. “We could walk down there.”  
  
“Sounds great,” she replied happily. She looked down at her feet. “Oh, uh, I just have to get my shoes. Come on inside.”  
  
Harry hastily stepped inside the house and shut the door behind him. The house was pretty much the same style as the Dursley’s, and it smelled a little like dishwashing detergent. But it was very neat and orderly, and Harry felt as if he were walking through a museum.  
  
Elle grabbed his arm. “Come on, I’ll show you my room,” she said, dragging him away from the door and up the stairs with a firm grip. She led him down the upstairs hallway until they came to the smallest room down at the very end. It was in the exact same place as Harry’s room. With an ungraceful shove, the door opened and Elle stumbled into the room, still holding on to Harry’s arm. When she finally let go, Harry worked hard to stifle a laugh.  
  
The room was small, and thought it only contained a few possessions, was very messy. The carpet was entirely covered with clothes . The walls were a pale pink, but were also covered with posters of various celebrities and bands that Harry had never heard of before. There was a bed in the center of the room with a canopy and pink bed sheets, and a wooden dresser against the wall that held a mirror and drawers. On top of the dresser were piles of makeup, jewelry, candles, lotions, and scattered photographs of people Harry could only guess were her old friends. There was also the jar with Harry’s golden butterfly on there, as well as a deck of tarot cards.   
  
Harry grinned. “At least now I know where you got the idea to turn the boy’s dormitory pink. What are these?” He held up the tarot cards.  
  
She shrugged. “Those were just a gift,” she explained. “I’ve only used them a few times, but they’ve definitely gotten me out of some tricky situations.”

Harry gave her a quizzical look. “You know how to use these?”

Elle grinned. “I know how to pretend to use them.”

Harry shook his head. “You really need to tell me more about your past,” he murmured, flipping the tarot cards absentmindedly.

“As do you, oh Chosen One.”   
  
Elle flung open her closet and bent down to rummage around the bottom. She tossed a few things aside, and Harry moved out of the way to avoid being hit. After a few minutes she finally found what she was looking for, and emerged from the closet holding a pair of beige flip-flops. She put them on, before grabbing Harry’s arm once more and dragging him out of the room.  
  
“That’s it?” Harry asked. “You’re not going to show me around the rest of the house, or…”  
  
“Nope,” Elle replied, pulling him down the stairs. “Let’s just get out of here.”  
  
They walked out of the house and Elle shut the door. As they were on their way to the park, they sprang into an immediate discussion about Quidditch, and how cool it would be if they could go to the World Cup together. Harry told her all about his adventures at the last World Cup, which left Elle positively squirming with envy and disgust.  
  
“You’re so lucky,” she sighed. “All I got to go to was a muggle football game. And believe me when I say that the cheerleaders were worse than Veela.” She shuddered. “Those death eaters sound terrible though. And I thought they were bad during the attack on Hogwarts.” 

“I still can’t believe we survived that,” Harry said quietly.

Elle squeezed his hand. “I’m glad we did,” she whispered. “Now I know we can face anything.”   
  
When they arrived at the park, Harry was happy to see that it wasn’t crowded; there were only a few kids playing around in the sandbox and an older couple sitting on a bench reading. Elle and Harry glanced at each other and immediately raced for the swings. They snagged two right next to each other and kicked off their shoes.  
  
They stayed for a long time, laughing and talking, each one trying to swing higher than the other.   
  


* * *

 

After a while, they got off the swings and went for a walk around the lake. They stopped to buy lemonade from a small stand two little kids had set up, and sat around drinking until it was afternoon. They fell back onto the swings, though this time they only swayed back and forth, burying their toes into the sand at their feet and resting their heads against the chains.  
  
“I can’t believe we spent the whole day on a swing,” Harry said, laughing.  
  
Elle laughed too. “We’re kind of dorky, I guess.”  
  
They heard a noise from behind. Turning around, Harry tried to see what it was, but there was nobody there.  
  
“What was that?” Elle asked.  
  
Harry frowned. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, getting up to go inspect the bushes behind them. Harry cautiously pulled back some of the branches. To his surprise, he saw Dudley crouching amongst the leaves.  
  
Harry gave Dudley an incredulous stare.  
  
“What are you doing here?” he asked in disbelief.  
  
Elle looked over at them. Dudley’s face turned bright red.  
  
“Uh, um…I…” he stuttered.  
  
Harry sighed, and could feel his excellent mood slipping away. Trust Dudley to always ruin things.  
  
“What?” he asked his cousin, annoyed.  
  
“M-mum wanted me to come and see what you were up to,” he managed to get out. He snuck a sideways glance at Elle. “She wanted to know if you were getting into any trouble,” Dudley continued, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  
  
Harry sighed, exasperated. “So basically, you came to spy on me. Is that it?”  
  
Dudley shifted uncomfortably and looked away, embarrassed. “No,” he muttered. "I'm meeting up with my friends."  
  
Harry opened his mouth and was about to say something, but Elle came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“It’s okay,” she said, and Harry suddenly forgot to be mad. She looked at Dudley and gave him a friendly smile. “Hi, you must be Harry’s cousin. I’m Elle.”  
  
Harry had never seen Dudley blush before, and it was an unsettling sight, considering his object of affection.  
  
“Dudley,” he responded, staring intently at his shoelaces.  
  
“Nice to meet you Dudley,” Elle replied. She let her hand drop from Harry’s shoulder and wrapped it around his fingers. “Come on Harry, let’s go back to my house.”  
  
Harry grinned and nodded. “Sounds good,” he said. He and Elle turned to leave. “Later Dud,” he called over his shoulder.   
  
As soon as they were out of earshot, they burst into laughter.  
  
“Can you believe that?” Harry said. “He’s mesmerized by something other than food or television!”  
  
“Aw, he’s not that bad,” Elle said uncertainly. Harry gave her a look, and she grinned apologetically. “Okay, so maybe he is a little strange…”  
  
“A lot strange.”  
  
They walked up to Elle’s front door and she led him into the house.  
  
“Do you have any food? I’m starving.” Harry walked into her kitchen, and Elle followed, tossing him a bag of crisps.   
  
“Help yourself,” she answered breezily, opening the refrigerator and taking out a bottle of soda. She poured them both a glass, and then Harry followed her into the living room where she flopped down on the couch, shook down her hair, and turned on the TV. Harry sat down on the couch as well, and both of them stuffed their mouths with snacks.  
  
They watched television until it started to grow dark, with Elle describing all the shows to Harry in great detail. When evening had truly fell, Harry glanced at his watch. It was fifteen minutes to six. 

He stood up, and Elle looked up at him in surprise.  
  
“Leaving?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the couch. “Your aunt, uncle, and cousin will be home soon, and I doubt they want to find me here eating all their food.”  
  
Elle turned off the television set. “My aunt and uncle are going to a dinner party, and Cameron is on a date with her fiancé. They’ll probably be out all night.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry replied, lowering his jacket and letting it fall back to the couch. “You didn’t mention that.”

“It slipped my mind,” Elle said quietly, but with an expression that told Harry it certainly hadn’t.

They both were silent for a moment.  
  
Elle laughed a little to ease the sudden tension. “Come with me,” she said, turning away from the living room. “I want to show you something.”  
  
“I don’t quite fancy going into your room again,” Harry said, but she was already out of sight.  
  
He followed her up the stairs until they stopped in front of what Harry had previously thought was a hall closet. He was confused, but kept his mouth shut until Elle opened the door. Then his eyes widened.  
  
It wasn’t a closet. It was a whole other room, but it was unlike any room Harry had ever seen before. There wasn’t much walking space, but the walls were a deep, velvety black and the floor was a rich sort of cherry wood. There were lamps wrapped in silk hanging from the ceiling. On one side was a short bookshelf filled with old books that had tattered, thick covers and creased pages, and looked as if they had been read many times. There was also an open jewelry box that Harry could see held a tiny pair of gold earrings. Last but not least, in the center of the room stood a ruby couch with soft cushions. Being in this room was like stepping into another world.  
  
“Whoa,” Harry said in awe. “Where did all this come from?”  
  
Elle smiled. “From my parents. Those were my dad’s books; he loved to read, and I couldn’t stand to see them given away.” She motioned toward the jewelry box with the earrings. “Those were my mother’s,” she said.  
  
Harry went over to get a better look at them. “How come you never wear them?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Elle answered quietly.   
  
Harry decided he better not ask any more questions about the earrings, and instead looked at the walls.  
  
“Did you design this room?”  
  
She hesitated. “Well, in a way. Our house is the only house on the block with five rooms instead of four. Nobody in the family ever used this room. I needed a place to put my parent’s stuff, so I asked permission to store their belongings here. Then, I just ended up spending all my time in here, reading my dad’s books. He’s got some great ones- Treasure Island, The Arabian Nights, Gulliver’s Travels- he loved adventure stories and fairy tales. When I was younger, he’d read them to me all the time.”  
  
Harry was intrigued. Except for that one time during Christmas, he had never seen Elle read anything except schoolbooks and old fashion magazines- he had never known her true passion for reading. No wonder her and Hermione had become such good friends.

“I haven’t been able to read them as much since he died,” Elle explained, as if reading Harry’s thoughts.   
  
“Did you paint the walls? I have a hard time believing they came in black.”  
  
“Well yes, with magic,” Elle said.  
  
“What?” Harry asked. “We can’t use magic outside of school!”  
  
“You can’t,” she replied calmly. “But wandless magic seems to be allowed. The thing with that is, it isn’t just about saying spells out loud and pointing a finger. You have to use your mind to make things happen, and learn patience and concentration. After trying for weeks, I realized that if I just closed my eyes and envisioned the color I wanted the walls to be, then it would happen. Strong emotions also produce better results.”  
  
“I have to see this,” Harry said bluntly, though he was quite eager to see more of this wandless power. Elle displayed very little of it.   
  
Elle looked taken aback. “If you’d like,” she said. “I don’t usually do this around other people.”  
  
She stood in front of the wall and closed her eyes, resting her palm atop the beam. After a moment of deep concentration and willpower, the wall changed to a pale violet color right before Harry’s eyes. Harry was impressed.  
  
“Pretty cool,” he said, grinning broadly.  
  
She opened her eyes and stared disapprovingly at the wall. “I was going for a dark purple, but you get the idea,” she said, waving her hand. The color returned to black. “I guess I still need practice. My mom was a lot better at it; she always said she’d teach me when I was older.”  
  
“So, I’m guessing your relatives don’t know about you making magic in here all the time,” Harry reasoned.   
  
She laughed. “Of course not, they’d have me kicked out of the house if they knew.”  
  
She went over to a small window near the back of the room that Harry had overlooked in his awe and opened it, letting the soft drapes billow out in the slight breeze of twilight. She sat down on the couch, and he sat next to her.  
  
“My dad gave something to me too,” Harry said.  
  
Elle looked at him, curious. “What is it?”  
  
Harry rummaged around in his jacket pocket and pulled out his invisibility cloak. He couldn’t believe that a whole school year had gone by and he’d had practically no need for it. Elle gazed at in wonder, picking it up and letting the silky material run through her fingers.  
  
“This is amazing,” she said. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You’ve never spied on me with this, have you?”  
  
“Thought about it,” Harry admitted. He took the cloak from her hands and swept it over them. The two huddled underneath it, feeling like two children camping out in a homemade fort.  
  
Harry leaned over and kissed her. This kiss was much more intense than their usual embraces, and Elle leaned back against the arm of the couch, pulling Harry on top of her. The invisibility cloak hovered stealthily above them, obscuring them from the world.

Harry pulled away and ran a hand through her hair, brushing it out of her eyes. Elle gazed back at him, her expression serious.  
  
“Harry, we shouldn’t,” she said.  
  
“Of course,” Harry said. “You’re absolutely right.”  
  
They lay there, and silence fell between them. Harry honestly felt that he wouldn’t mind if anything else happened…especially the activity that he had kept at the back of his mind from the very moment he and Elle had begun dating.

Harry swallowed, and suddenly looked at Elle nervously. “Have you ever…you know…done this before?” he asked. 

Elle knew exactly what he was referring to. “No,” she replied. “I had a few boyfriends, but we never went this far.” She looked at Harry suspiciously. “What about you? Hermione told me about you and Cho…”

Harry shook his head fervently. “Definitely not,” he said at once. He grinned, and looked at Elle. She looked back at him and grinned too.

Slowly, Harry peeled off his shirt, and tossed it aside. Elle ran her hands down his chest, breathing heavily. They both looked at each other, and Elle nodded. Harry kissed her again, more deeply this time.  
  
After a few minutes of kissing, and fumbling with clothing, the distinct sound of a door slamming downstairs caused them to freeze in horror.  
  
Elle pressed a finger to her lips as she threw off the invisibility cloak and jumped off the couch. She yanked her dress down and silently crept to the door so she could sneak a peek outside.  
  
“What is it?” Harry asked hesitantly.  
  
“My cousin,” she said, smoothing her hair and throwing Harry back his shirt. “And she has a man with her!” She grabbed Harry’s arm. “Come on!” she hissed, urgency in her voice. “If she finds you here, I’m dead!”  
  
She dragged him back into her old, messy room, and the door closed behind her with a snap. She leaned against it, breathing in relief.  
  
“I thought you said she’d be gone all night,” Harry accused, pulling on his shirt and straightening his glasses.  
  
Elle sighed in frustration. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Harry smiled and rubbed her arm in consolation. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “We have plenty of time for all that.”  
  
Elle smiled, and Harry glanced at his watch. “I should really be getting back anyway, my uncle will be home by now and they’re probably convinced I’m out terrorizing the neighborhood.”  
  
“Well, you can’t use the front door,” Elle said. “But I think I have an idea.” She dug through her closet and pulled out her broomstick. “Is your window open?” she asked him.  
  
“Yeah, it is actually,” he said.  
  
She tossed him the broom. “You can borrow this and fly home. I don’t think anybody will see you, all the muggles are inside having dinner.”  
  
“Yes ma’am,” he joked, taking the broom and bending down to gently kiss her neck. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
Elle smiled, and stood back as Harry jumped on the broom and flew out of the window, off into the dark, starry night.  
  


* * *

 

Elle watched him until he was safely back in his own room, before waving goodnight and shutting her window. She closed the drapes and leaned back against them, a little relieved.  
  
She heard Cameron calling her from downstairs. Elle turned away from the window, quickly prayed that her cousin hadn’t seen Harry or knew what she’d been up to, and then took a deep breath before making her way downstairs for the confrontation.  
  
“Hi,” Elle said cautiously, pausing on the last step of the stairs and holding onto the banister, as though it would protect her from any undeserved bullying.  
  
Cameron walked up to her with her arms crossed. Elle glared back.  
  
Cameron glanced over to the man she had brought home. Elle followed her gaze and laid eyes on him for the first time. He was very, very handsome. He had smooth dark skin, and was wearing a fancy black suit.   
  
“This is my little cousin, Danielle,” Cameron said. “Danielle, this is my fiancé.”  
  
The man gave a polite smile and held out his hand for Elle to shake.  
  
“Nice to meet you. I’m Damien,” he announced in a smooth voice.  
  
Elle could almost feel her knees weaken. The man’s hand was cold, and his short black hair seemed to electrify. His physique was incredible. But as soon as Elle looked upon his face, her warm and fuzzy feelings disappeared. The man’s eyes were a cold, steely shade of black, and they made Elle shiver.  
  
Elle shook his hand, making sure to let go quickly. “It’s Elle, actually.”  
  
“Elle.” Damien returned his gaze to Cameron and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.  
  
“I will see you tomorrow, my darling,” he promised gently.  
  
Cameron nodded, and he let himself out of the house. As soon as Damien was gone, Cameron turned to Elle.Elle felt like she should say something.

“Wow…so that’s the guy you’re marrying?” she asked. When Cameron didn’t respond, Elle became intrigued. So maybe her cousin had noticed something odd about Damien too? She decided to press her luck. 

“Isn’t he a little creepy?” she asked quietly.  
  
Cameron didn’t look surprised that Elle had noticed this. “Well, he is a little too suave for his own good,” she confided.  
  
Elle shook her head. “True, but that’s not what I meant.” She was a little eager for Cameron’s real opinion. “What about his eyes?”  
  
Cameron was beginning to lose her patience, and a mean glint shone through her eyes.

“What do you know?” she asked nastily. “I’m the one engaged to him, I think I know him better than you. He’s a fine man, and he’ll make an excellent husband.”  
  
But even though she tried to sound tough, her eyes had shifted away.  
  
“Where did you meet him?” Elle asked casually.  
  
Cameron stuck her nose up in the air. “At a bar,” she replied. “He bought me a drink.”  
  
Elle nodded her head slowly. “And you’re really going to marry him?” she asked weakly, ignoring the danger signs in Cameron’s expression. “Don’t you think you should date him for a little longer?”

Cameron’s eyes flashed angrily, and she shoved Elle hard in the chest. Elle landed on the living room floor with a thud, shaking slightly as Cameron towered over her. 

“You know nothing, cousin,” Cameron said with a nasty hiss, and walked away.

Elle pushed herself up. She was still shaking, and tried flexing her fingers, willing her wandless magic to come to her aid and make her cousin pay for her rudeness. But nothing happened- Elle was scared, and fear seemed to sap her of her powers.

One thing was for sure. No matter what she said, or what she did, Elle couldn’t help feeling that Cameron was making a  _big_  mistake.  
  



	23. Birthdays, Weasleys, and Malfoy

“Happy birthday!” Elle shouted out, bounding into Harry’s room carrying a parcel covered in wrapping paper.  
  
Harry groggily opened his eyes, put on his glasses, and glanced at the clock on his bedside cabinet. When he saw that it was already late morning, he groaned and sat up in bed. He was about to scold Elle for waking him up, when she quickly gave him a one-armed hug and a tiny kiss, and he forgot to be angry.  
  
“Thanks,” he said, taking the box and looking up at her. “How did you get in?”  
  
“Through the window,” she explained, gesturing towards her broomstick.   
  
Ever since his quick escape from Elle’s room at the beginning of the summer, Harry had grown accustomed to the habit of keeping his window open, just in case. He was glad that Elle had come to surprise him, and lucky for her, the Dursleys were gone. Uncle Vernon had informed him yesterday that the family would be out for the day, and babbled on about being invited to a drill convention. Harry was immensely pleased he wouldn’t have to see them on his birthday.  
  
Harry looked down at the gift he was holding. “What is it?” he asked, holding it up and shaking it. It felt heavy.   
  
Elle laughed. “Enough with the questions!” she teased. “Just open it.”  
  
Harry removed the wrapping paper and opened the box. It was a book; the cover was embossed in gold.  
  
“My favorite,” Elle offered, at his questioning glance. “Fairy tales. By the Brothers Grimm.”  
  
Harry opened the book. Elle had signed her name on the inside cover, which also had an inscription from her father. The pages were thick, and lined with gold.  
  
“Thanks,” Harry said, genuinely touched. He knew how much this book must have meant to her.  
  
"My father used to read these to me every night when I was little," Elle explained, gazing at the book fondly. "It used to comfort me. But now, I have you for that."  
  
Harry grinned, but before he could say another word, an owl flew through the open window carrying a letter in its beak. When he saw that it was Pig, he moved out of the way as the letter was dropped onto the bed. After recognizing Ron’s untidy scrawl on the outside, Harry ripped it open at once. Elle sat down next to him, and they both read together.  
  
 _Harry (and Elle, if you’re there),  
Happy birthday! You’re of age now! I hope you had a good summer so far. Hermione and I will be coming to pick you two up via Floo Powder today around midday (hopefully we’ll be able to get through the fire properly this time!). Oh, and Harry, do you think you might be able to get your relatives out of the house before we arrive? Just a thought. Anyway, be ready because we’re going straight to Grimmauld Place from the Burrow. Everybody is here, and can’t wait to see you two. Some people from the Order are here as well. Mum invited them so we can have a birthday dinner for you (don’t worry, Snape politely declined).   
Ron (and Hermione)_  
  
Harry glanced at the clock again, and was startled to see it was already half past eleven. “They’re going to be here in an hour and I’m not even packed yet!” he exclaimed.  
  
Elle stood up. “Calm down,” she said. “Let me go home while you pack and get dressed. I’ll be back in a half hour, okay?”  
  
Harry nodded, and Elle flirtatiously blew him another birthday kiss before grabbing her broom and flying out the window. Pig hooted happily, and zoomed out after her.  
  
Harry sat there for a while before getting up and gathering his school things, thinking that the Dursleys couldn’t have picked a better day to be gone. For once, fate had smiled down on Harry’s birthday, deciding to make it as smooth and painless as possible.  
  
He got up from bed, feeling happy, and safely tucked Elle's birthday gift at the bottom of his trunk. Seeing as how he was normally miserable on his birthdays, he thought today would be a very good day indeed.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, Harry was all dressed and packed. He carried his trunk with Elle’s gift inside, his broom, and Hedwig’s cage down to the living room, where he dumped it all on the floor and flopped down on the couch in front of the fire to wait for Elle.  
  
It didn’t take long. About five minutes later Elle waltzed in through the front door, carrying her own trunk and broom in one hand, and the jar with the golden butterfly in the other. Dressed in shorts, a short-sleeved top, and flip-flops, Elle still appeared more ready for the beach than for Grimmauld Place. Tucking a loose strand behind her ear, Elle gazed around the room with her wide, green eyes.  
  
“Wow,” she said. “The living room looks so…orderly.”  
  
She dumped her trunk and broom next to Harry’s things, and placed the butterfly delicately on the floor before walking slowly around the room, picking up little trinkets the Dursleys had displayed here and there and inspecting them with interest. Since Elle’s relatives worked, and Aunt Petunia was home all the time, Harry usually went to her house instead.   
  
“How did you get in if the door’s locked?” Harry asked as he walked over to her, dismayed at how she always managed to find a way in.  
  
She gave him an exasperated look. Realization dawned on him. “Oh,” he said slowly. “Wandless magic. Right.”  
  
She giggled. “A little slow today, are we?”  
  
“Hey,” said Harry. “It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”  
  
“I’m always nice,” Elle stated innocently.  
  
"Which explains the super sweetness you showed me at the beginning of sixth year.”  
  
She grinned. “You know, you really have to let that go.”  
  
Harry laughed. “What’s up with your cousin? Is she still being mean to you?”  
  
Elle shook her head, her expression suddenly gloomy. “Yeah. At least she hasn’t put her hands on me again.”

Harry cursed under his breath. “I can’t believe she pushed you. If I had been there…”

“I’m glad you weren’t,” Elle said seriously. “You would have gotten in trouble. Besides, Cameron’s always been unpleasant, but I think I’m starting to feel a little sorry for her. She’s obviously engaged to a guy she doesn’t truly want to be with.” She sighed. “He’s probably wealthy. Cameron’s always been out to get rich without actually having to work. It’s just her luck that they both were at the same bar one night, and this guy just happened to hit on her.”  
  
“What did you say his name was again?”  
  
“Damien,” she replied. Her forehead creased, and she frowned. “When he comes to the house looking for Cameron, and it’s just him and I, I can feel him staring at me, and…I don’t know…I just get bad vibes from him.”  
  
“Yeah, he definitely sounds like a creep,” Harry said. “But don’t worry, at least you’ll never have to see them again. I mean, after we leave Hogwarts this year we’re finally on our own!”  
  
Elle didn’t seem too happy about this. “Where am I going to go?” She sighed. “I’ll probably have to live with my aunt and uncle until I’m, like, thirty.”  
  
Harry stood in silence for a moment.  
  
“Well…we could live together,” he suggested slowly.  
  
Elle didn’t say anything. Harry suddenly felt embarrassed.  
  
“Wow, that came out wrong…I mean, I know it’s a little early to be thinking about…I just thought it would be cool…”  
  
“It’s not that,” Elle said. Then she smiled. “I think it’s a great idea.”  
  
The fireplace suddenly turned bright green, and flames shot up in the air. Ron appeared in the fire and casually stepped into the Dursley’s living room.  
  
“Hey,” he said grinning. “Sorry if I’m a bit early.”  
  
“Ron!” Elle squealed, jumping up and giving him a hug, as though she hadn’t seen him for fifty years.  
  
“Nice to see you too,” Ron laughed, after Elle let go of him. “Happy birthday, Harry!”  
  
The fire turned green once more, and a moment later Hermione stepped out of the flames. She beamed at them and gave Harry and Elle a hug.  
  
“Happy birthday!” she said to Harry.  
  
Harry smiled. “It’s good to see you two,” he responded warmly.  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron. “Can you believe it’s already been a month since we left school? Only one more month of summer left!”  
  
“Oh come on Ron, these last four weeks are going to be really exciting!” Hermione interjected. “We’re getting to be a part of the Order of the Phoenix! I can’t wait to get to Grimmauld Place, I know they’re still fixing it up for us, but I’ve heard a lot of other students have been invited to join too, and…”  
  
“Yes Hermione, we know, we’re all excited,” Ron said, stopping her before she kept rambling.  
  
“Wait,” Harry said to Hermione. “Did you say other students from our school have been invited to join also?”  
  
Hermione nodded. “It’s mostly students from the old D.A.”  
  
Elle looked up. “Which D.A. members are joining, then?” she asked.  
  
Hermione shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out when we arrive.”  
  
“Did Dumbledore say when we would be able to come?” Harry asked.  
  
“Soon,” Ron replied. “He’ll be at our house later on; him, Lupin, and Hagrid. Mum invited them over for dinner to celebrate your birthday.”  
  
Ron looked around the room, then down at his watch.  
  
“Are you two all set to go?” he asked. “Mum will kill me if we’re gone too long.”  
  
“Yeah, uh, I think we’re ready,” Harry said slowly, looking around the room as well.  
  
This was probably the last time he would ever be inside this house, and he felt kind of weird leaving without saying goodbye to the Dursleys. He felt that if he didn’t have some sense of finality, that he’d always be wondering when he would see them again, and he wanted to be separated from his aunt, uncle, and cousin forever.  
  
He sighed, and went to gather his things from the floor. Ron went to help him, while Hermione took Elle’s stuff.  
  
“Okay,” said Ron, as he took out a small pouch from his pocket and poured Floo Powder into his hand. He motioned for everyone to take some. “I’ll take Harry’s stuff and go first. Hermione, why don’t you go next with Elle’s luggage and then her and Harry can follow you?”  
  
Hermione nodded, and Ron took the powder he was holding and tossed it into the Dursley’s fireplace. The fire burned emerald, and the flames rose once more. Ron stepped into them holding onto Harry’s trunk and broom, as well as Hedwig’s cage.

“The Burrow!” he shouted, and in an instant, he was gone.  
  
Hermione grinned at them before throwing her own powder into the fire. “See you there,” she said, and in a moment she too had disappeared.  
  
The fire glowed orange after she departed, and Harry stepped up. Before he left, however, he turned around to face Elle.  
  
“See you in a bit?” he asked.  
  
Elle looked nervous. “Uh, sure,” she said uneasily. Harry didn’t like the look on her face.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’ve never used Floo Powder before!” he said incredulously.  
  
Elle gazed up at him helplessly. "There aren't a lot of fireplaces in California," she explained, looking white-faced.   
  
Harry laughed. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Just follow my lead. Speak clearly, shut your eyes, and tuck your elbows in.”  
  
She nodded. Harry took a deep breath and threw his powder into the fire. With one last look around the living room, he stepped into the fireplace, shouted “the Burrow!” and soon everything was fading away into a brilliant blur of color.  
  


* * *

 

Harry, who always kept his eyes shut tight when using Floo Powder, opened them and stepped out of the fireplace into the Burrow. He dusted himself off and went over to Ron and Hermione.  
  
“Come on,” said Ron. “Everybody’s in the other room, they’ll all want to say hi…”  
  
“Ron, shouldn’t we wait for Elle first?” asked Hermione, glancing at the fireplace.  
  
Ron stopped. “Oh yeah,” he said, as if suddenly remembering that it was no longer just the three of them staying at the Burrow.  
  
Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.  
  
“Ron, is that you?” she shouted.  
  
“Yes mum,” he called back. “Harry’s here.”  
  
They heard rushing footsteps, and a second later Molly Weasley entered the room.  
  
“Harry, how good to see you dear!” she exclaimed, giving him a warm smile. “My, you look so grown up! I’ve been in the kitchen preparing for your dinner, it’s going to be simply marvelous!”  
  
“You didn’t have to do all that for me,” Harry said, grinning.  
  
“Nonsense!” said Mrs. Weasley. "It's not every day a wizard comes of age!"  
  
Another pair of footsteps came towards them, and before Harry knew it Fred and George had appeared behind their mother.  
  
“Hey Harry,” George said enthusiastically.  
  
“Hey everybody, Harry’s here!” Fred yelled at the top of his lungs.  
  
Footsteps came from all over the house, and soon everyone was standing in the room to greet Harry; all of Ron’s brothers were there, along with Ginny and Mr. Weasley. They all wished Harry a happy birthday.  
  
After a couple of minutes, Ron’s brother Charlie piped up. “Hey Ron, I thought you said that your other friend was supposed to be coming too.”  
  
Ginny looked up, confused. “Yeah, where’s Elle?” she asked. “She is coming, isn’t she?”  
  
“Of course she is,” said Ron.  
  
Hermione’s forehead creased. “I wonder what’s taking her so long?”  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked concerned. “Are you sure she knows how to get here by Floo Powder?” she asked.  
  
Harry shrugged. “Actually, no.”  
  
Fred and George snickered, but Mrs. Weasley grew worried.  
  
“Arthur, maybe you should go and see what’s taking her so long,” she said, turning to her husband.  
  
“No need,” said Bill.  
  
They all watched as the fireplace burned, and seconds later Elle stumbled out, looking disheveled and completely covered from head to toe in soot.  
  
The room was silent until Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. “Hello,” he said, smiling.  
  
She looked up, and her face reddened a little. She straightened up, putting on her widest and friendliest smile.  
  
“Hi!” she said brightly. “You must be Mr. Weasley!”  
  
“And you must be Elle!”  
  
“Of course,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Ron and Hermione have told us so much about you! We’ve all been looking forward to meeting you.”  
  
Elle beamed even more brightly. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you too!” she replied enthusiastically. “You have a lovely house.”  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks- Elle was currently spreading dust all over the “lovely house.”  
  
“These are Ron’s brothers,” Mrs. Weasley said, taking Elle by the hand. "That’s Bill, the eldest, and there’s Charlie,” she said, pointing to them as they waved and nodded. “Those two are Fred and George, although you may not want to be around them too much,” she said motioning towards the twins.  
  
“Hey!” exclaimed Fred and George in unison, glaring at their mother.  
  
“Everyone wants to be around us!” Fred insisted.  
  
“Of course you already know Ron and Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley went on, ignoring the twins. Elle nodded.  
  
“Nice to meet you,” she said to everyone graciously.  
  
“What happened to you, anyway?” asked Ron, looking at her messy clothes.  
  
“Yeah,” George piped up. “Why are you covered in dust?”  
  
Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes. “George, be nice!” she hissed.  
  
“I was only asking!” he said defensively.  
  
Elle grinned uneasily. “I got lost,” she explained. "Almost got out of another fireplace. Hey, it was my first time!"  
  
Harry grimaced, but then remembered how he had once ended up in Knockturn Alley and thought at least Elle had done a better job. Fred and George snickered, but Mrs. Weasley gave her a comforting smile.  
  
“That’s all right, dear,” she said. “Hermione, Ginny, why don’t you girls show Elle to her room?”  
  
Elle smiled. She was about to leave, and then thought twice and turned back around. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley!” she said, giving Ron’s mother a hug.  
  
Mrs. Weasley appeared very much taken aback by this gesture. As she let go, Mrs. Weasley gave her another smile.  
  
“You’re more than welcome,” she said kindly.  
  
“Follow us,” said Hermione. The three girls disappeared up the stairs.  
  
Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry. "So...Ron tells me that's your new girlfriend?" she asked, trying to be subtle.   
  
Harry nodded. "Yes," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He didn't know why, but Mrs. Weasley's approval seemed important. "She's an orphan, her parents died last year. I know being invited here meant a lot to her.”   
  
Mrs. Weasley's eyes immediately opened wide. "Well, she's a lovely girl," she told Harry warmly. "And we'll make her feel right at home."  
  
Harry grinned. "Thanks Mrs. Weasley," he said, and he really meant it. 

* * *

 

“Your house is so cool!” Elle exclaimed as she followed Hermione and Ginny up to their room.  
  
“It isn’t much,” said Ginny, as they reached the top of the staircase and walked down the hall. “This is my room.” She opened the door, and showed Elle inside. “You’ll be staying in here with me and Hermione.”  
  
“It’s a wonderful room,” Elle sighed, sitting down on the extra bed that had been squeezed inside, taking in the surroundings and the view outside the window. “What’s new with you guys?”  
  
“Nothing really,” Hermione admitted. “It’s mostly just been me and Ron here at the house, since the adults are always at Grimmauld Place, and Fred and George are always at the joke shop. They’ve even hired Ginny to work in the store a bit, so she’s been gone a lot too.”  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not like anyone was forcing you two to stay here alone,” she teased, flipping her long red hair. “You could’ve helped out at Fred and George’s shop too…”  
  
“So let me get this straight,” Elle said, looking at Hermione seriously. “You and Ron have been here for weeks…all alone?”  
  
Ginny laughed, and Hermione blushed furiously.  
  
“Did you guys…you know…do it?” Elle whispered mischievously, getting right to the point.  
  
Hermione avoided her eyes. “Do what?” she asked innocently, suddenly extremely interested with examining the pattern on the bed sheet.  
  
Elle’s eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god,” she said, beginning to laugh. “You did, didn’t you?”  
  
“Oh, be quiet,” Hermione said, very embarrassed and very guilty. She grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Elle and Ginny to shut them up, as they had both started giggling. Ginny even began gagging a little.   
  
“That’s not very proper, you know,” Elle joked.  
  
“And to think, in my own house too,” Ginny sighed.  
  
“I hope you used protection,” Elle said.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, but she could barely conceal her smile. “We had a very splendid, but safe summer, and I’m just going to leave it at that,” she stated simply. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it was the right thing, and the right time.”   
  
“What about you and Harry?” Ginny asked Elle with a wink. Elle’s smile vanished from her face.  
  
“Don’t even go there,” Elle replied, shaking her head. “Come on, let’s go back downstairs.”  
  
“But have you guys ever…” Hermione began.   
  
“No!” Elle interrupted loudly. “Honestly. Now, come on!” She raced from the room before they could ask any more questions, and Hermione and Ginny followed her.  
  
When they reached the living room, Mrs. Weasley had returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Lupin, and Hagrid had arrived, and after a brief exchange of greetings, disappeared into a room with Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie, chatting about plans for the Order. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George remained in the room talking, but looked up when the girls entered.  
  
"It’s good to finally meet the boys who helped Harry with his ice water prank," Elle told the twins, by way of greeting. The twins gave a mock bow.   
  
Fred and George grinned. "It’s nice to finally meet the girl who turned the boys' dormitory pink," George replied. Elle gave a mock curtsy.   
  
“How about a game of Quidditch?” Fred suggested.  
  
They all grinned. Harry and Elle looked at each other. “We’ll get our brooms,” they said in unison.   
  
They returned within a few minutes, and the five of them went outside to the spacious backyard. The others retrieved their brooms from a shed out in the garden. Seconds later, Bill and Charlie came out to join them.  
  
They broke into two, uneven teams. Harry, Elle, Ron, and Hermione were on one team, with Harry as seeker, Elle as Beater, Ron as Keeper, and Hermione as a Chaser. Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie, and Bill were on the other team, with Fred and George assuming their natural roles as Beaters, Bill as a Keeper, Charlie as a Chaser, and Ginny as Seeker. Since there was no real Quidditch equipment, Bill and Charlie bewitched some apples from a nearby tree and they decided to play with those.  
  
“Hey,” Harry said before they started. “How come your team has more players? We only have one Beater!”  
  
“That’s okay Harry,” Elle said. “I’m the best Beater there is, so we don’t need two.”  
  
This piqued the twins’ interest.  
  
“ _You’re_  the best Beater?” said Fred, a huge smirk on his face. “You, a girl who’s shorter than my mum?”  
  
“We hate to break it to you, but nobody is better than Fred and I,” George remarked triumphantly.  
  
Elle smiled at them. “I’d like to see you two prove that.”  
  
The twins exchanged sly looks. Ginny began laughing.  
  
“Elle” she said. “I don’t think you want to be doing that. I mean, they _are_ really good…”  
  
Fred and George instantly shook their heads. “Forget about it, Gin,” George said.  
  
“Yeah,” piped Fred. “If she’s ready to be humiliated, then so be it. Let the game begin!”  
  
Everybody flew off in different directions. Fred and George made a point of circling Elle with their brooms.  
  
“Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” George said ominously, before they both winked and sped off.  
  
It was a fierce game, and it lasted until the middle of the afternoon. Nobody was really keeping score or taking him or herself too seriously. Harry and Ginny kept shouting to each other where the “Snitch” was located, and then both tried to race to see who got to it first, before letting the enchanted apple zoom off again.  
  
Of course, everybody was more focused on seeing how Elle tried to take on the twins. It was pretty amusing. Fred and George kept swatting one apple after another at her, and Elle kept on dodging them before whacking some back at them in return. They each got hit a fair number of times, but neither seemed to be giving up.  
  
After a while, the adults came out to watch the game. They all chuckled a bit, seeing how unorganized everything was, and soon started betting on which team would win. Finally, Mrs. Weasley poked her head out announcing that dinner was ready and that Dumbledore had arrived. The nine of them reluctantly flew back to the ground.  
  
“Well, I have to admit, you guys are pretty good,” Elle said, swinging her broom over her shoulder.  
  
Fred and George exchanged glances. “Pretty good?” they said together. “We were brilliant!”  
  
Elle laughed. “Fine, fine, you were brilliant.”  
  
Fred sighed resignedly. “I guess you weren’t too bad either,” he said grudgingly. “For a girl.”  
  
Charlie laughed. “Hey Harry, I like this new girlfriend of yours,” he said, as they all walked inside.  
  
“Funny, I’m still deciding,” Harry joked.  
  
“Hey!” Elle protested. “You’re the one who’s dating me!”  
  
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he replied. Everybody laughed, and Elle pushed him hard between the ribs. Harry grabbed her hand. 

“I’m kidding,” he assured her. “I’m glad you’re having a good time here.”

Elle beamed. “It’s wonderful here. It’s like…having a family again.”   
  
They all went into the kitchen and joined Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the table. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a scrumptious chicken dinner, and they all immediately dug in. The laughter and chatter died down a bit as everyone stuffed their faces with Mrs. Weasley’s excellent cooking, but once the main course had been devoured, conversation resurfaced. Mrs. Weasley disappeared inside the kitchen once more, and came out with a large, tasty-looking chocolate cake.  
  
Once it was placed in front of Harry, she took out her wand and the candles lying on top were magically lit. They all sang happy birthday (some horribly out of tune), and Harry made a wish (on Elle’s insistence) and blew out the candles. They all burst into applause.  
  
All too soon, stomachs were rebelling against any more intake of food, and every plate was cleared off of the table. Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
  
“I have an announcement to make,” he said. “First of all, a very happy birthday to you Harry. May you be blessed with many more.”  
  
“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said.  
  
“Second of all, I have decided that since Mr. Potter and Miss Levine have now arrived, we should all travel to Grimmauld Place tomorrow and have the first official meeting for all new members of the Order of the Phoenix.”  
  
Everybody clapped, and Fred and George whistled their approval.  
  
“About time,” Ron said. Dumbledore grinned.  
  
Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat.  
  
“That means everybody into bed early,” she instructed to Harry, Ron, Elle, Hermione, and Ginny. “Tomorrow will be a very busy day, and you all need a good night’s rest.”  
  
“How come they get to stay up?” whined Ginny, pointing to Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie.  
  
“Because they are older,” Mrs. Weasley said, tiring of this age-old argument. “Come now, off you go!”  
  
Ginny reluctantly got up from the table and left. Harry, Elle, Ron, and Hermione stayed behind to thank Mrs. Weasley for the dinner and bid everyone else goodnight before also traipsing up the stairs. Hermione went into Ginny’s room, and Ron went to his own room, but Elle turned to Harry, wanting to take advantage of this spare moment alone.  
  
“What did you wish for tonight?” she whispered, looking up at Harry and smiling.  
  
Harry grinned. “Take one guess,” he whispered back, caressing her cheek with his hand. He bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said softly. “Thanks for spending my birthday with me. It was the best one I've ever had.” 

And then, before she could say anything, he disappeared into Ron’s room and shut the door.  
  
Elle smiled. “You’re welcome,” she murmured quietly, even though she knew Harry could no longer hear her.  
  


* * *

 

The next morning was a hectic blur. Everybody rushed about, making sure they had all their stuff and running around trying to finish their packing. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Hagrid had all left last night after dinner, and Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George were apparating, so it was only Hermione, Elle, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Ron’s parents who were traveling by taxi.  
  
After their luggage was loaded, Hermione held Crookshanks, Ron held Pig, and Harry held Hedwig’s cage. They all squished uncomfortably inside one cab and got ready for the long drive to Grimmauld Place.  
  
Once they arrived, they got out of the car with a thankful sigh and heaved their luggage out of the trunk. Mrs. Weasley pressed a finger to her lips and led them inside Number Twelve, shushing them so as to not wake up the portrait of Sirius’ mother. Once he was inside, Harry couldn’t help blinking in amazement.  
  
A lot had changed since his visit last summer. No longer dark and dreary, more lamps had been set up throughout the corridor, along with numerous “homey” touches, such as vases filled with fresh flowers and the lingering scent of potpourri. Almost all of the dangerous magical objects were gone, and the entire house was free of cobwebs.

True, Harry had given permission to Dumbledore and the rest of the Order to continue to use this place as Headquarters, but he hadn’t expected to see it totally revamped. He thought Sirius would approve of the changes- a home devoted to the Dark Arts was now the headquarters for fighting them.   
  
They safely passed the screaming portrait, and Harry could see Elle gazing around the place with wide eyes. They stepped into the kitchen, and Harry almost fainted with shock.  
  
Most of the D.A. was here, like Hermione had said. Lavender, Parvati, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Cho, Luna, and the usual Order members like Moody, Tonks, Mundungus Fletcher, McGonagall, and Snape were all present, but that wasn’t what shocked Harry.

No, what shocked him was the person sitting in a chair, slightly away from everyone else, with a smug look on his pointed face.  
  
Draco Malfoy was in the Order of the Phoenix.   
  



	24. Plots and Preparations

Harry glared at Malfoy. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were too busy greeting all of the other Order members to notice, but their fellow D.A. members noticed.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Harry said darkly, as soon as the adults had excused themselves from the room.  
  
Elle stopped giving Lavender and Parvati dirty looks, and came to stand beside Harry. But before confrontation could commence, the front door opened and Bill, Charlie, Fred and George walked into the room.  
  
“Hi everybody,” Bill said easily, but then noticed the tension. Their eyes fell on Malfoy, and Fred and George’s hands instantly clenched into fists. Charlie cleared his throat tentatively.  
  
“Uh, Bill, I think we should let Dumbledore know we’re here,” he suggested hastily.  
  
“Yeah, alright,” Bill replied. As soon as they left, Fred and George folded their arms across their chests.  
  
“Anyone want to tell us what the bloody _hell_ is going on?” Fred asked darkly.   
  
Nobody answered him, and the room remained silent. Malfoy turned to face Harry, his expression shaped into a sneer. When he spoke, his voice sounded cool, calm, and collected.  
  
“Why so surprised? I’ve been on your side ever since I helped fight Voldemort during the attack in the Forbidden Forest, remember?” he said sharply, before Harry could speak.   
  
Harry narrowed his eyes, noticing how Malfoy had spoken the name Voldemort with way too much pride and respect than the subject deserved. He didn’t know what this meant, and turned to Hermione. With a sour expression on her face, she spoke to Malfoy.  
  
“Alright, so you’ve proved you’re on our side,” she said haughtily. “That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. This is way more important than our D.A. meetings at school. How do we know we can trust you?”  
  
“Yeah!” Ron added, looking impressed that Hermione had taken charge in confronting Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy’s expression didn’t change. “One,” he said calmly. “You may find this hard to believe, but I would like nothing more than to see Voldemort destroyed as much as the next person. Two…” he paused for a moment. “I didn’t exactly volunteer. Someone suggested to Dumbledore that I become a member, and then he asked me to join. So, Dumbledore obviously thinks I can be trusted.”  
  
Harry’s eyes narrowed, and Ron looked dumbfounded.

“Who here would possibly suggest that you join?” Ron asked.  
  
Malfoy just stared at him with a ghost of smirk. 

“Why don’t you ask your sister?” he said, cold as ice.  
  
Ron, quite taken aback, turned around to face a very nervous, and a very guilty, Ginny Weasley.  
  


* * *

 

Somewhere far, far away from the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, there was an island, where there sat a tall, dark, mansion. The mansion lay on top of a rocky cliff, surrounded by an angry, turbulent ocean. The sky above was as black as night, and lightning flashed past stormy clouds. Waves crashed against large stone rocks, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.  
  
A small, wooden rowboat sailed over the treacherous waves, heading for the mansion at a rapid speed…almost as if it were powered by magic. A shrouded figure sat hunched over in the boat, covered in a black cloak that hid his face and billowed out behind him against the furious wind. He barely looked up as the boat reached its destination, and when it came to a stop he carefully stepped out, the heels of his polished black shoes clicking against the gravel path.  
  
As he continued to climb the steep path, the mansion loomed closer and a sudden bolt of lightning illuminated its silhouette. It resembled something out of a ghost story; the walls were constructed of a drab, gray concrete, and the slanted roof was covered in peeling, black paint. Windows with broken shutters slammed against the wind, and statues topped with gargoyles flanked the entranceway.  
  
The man slowly stepped up to the door and took hold of the iron doorknob. As he knocked, the echo bounced off the hollow walls on the inside and almost at once, the door creaked open, revealing a dark hallway with a stone floor and torches fastened against the walls. The man went inside and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving him alone in semi-darkness. The man continued onward into the foyer, and all that could be heard was the noise of his footsteps.  
  
Finally, he came upon an elegant staircase that wound its way upward, reaching all the way to the very top floor. He climbed the staircase and once he reached the top, immediately heard the sound of people conversing in scattered whispers. He kept on walking till he reached a door towards the very back, his footsteps now muffled on the intricate carpeting. He pushed open the door and entered the room, his black cloak swirling around him. He was greeted by a warm glow from a roaring fireplace, a large snake lying curled up on an hearth rug next to it, and two men; one a short, balding man with watery eyes and the other a taller, more intimidating figure with his back turned towards him.  
  
At the sound of his entrance, the man slowly turned around, and a pair of evil, red eyes rose to gaze at the sudden stranger.  
  
“Ah,” he said in a voice just above a whisper, almost like a hiss. “Damien. I have been awaiting your arrival.”  
  
Damien bowed his head. “My apologies to keep you waiting, my Lord,” he replied in a tone as smooth as silk. “I have been trying to complete the task you set me.”  
  
Voldemort nodded slowly. “Of course. I asked you to pose as a muggle and get close to a young lady by the name of Cameron Edwards.”  
  
Damien nodded. “Your Lordship was wise to suggest slipping her a love potion. We are engaged, and I have gained her trust. She would give me anything that I asked for. But…why have you chosen this girl? What does she have to do with our plan?”  
  
The sparks from the fire cast a flickering light over Voldemort’s face.  
  
“It seems to me that you’ve done well, Damien,” he said calmly. “Now it is time for the second part of your task.” He stopped and turned to the short, balding man. “Wormtail!” he said sharply.  
  
Wormtail jumped and scrambled over to Voldemort. “Y-yes, my Lord?” he stuttered nervously.  
  
“Leave us,” said Voldemort. “We must speak in private.”  
  
Wormtail nodded and quickly backed out of the room. After he left and closed the door, Voldemort turned back to Damien.  
  
“As I was saying,” he said. “You have been introduced to a certain someone named Danielle Levine, is that correct?”  
  
Damien looked up in confusion. “The young girl? Her cousin, the witch?”  
  
Voldemort nodded.  
  
“Why, yes. But what does she have to do with anything?”  
  
“She is our key to Harry Potter,” Voldemort explained with a ruthless gleam in his eye. “The boy is in love with her. I saw for myself during our attack on the school.” He began to walk slowly in circles around the room, his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
“Springing another attack on Hogwarts would not be wise. The school is too well protected,” Voldemort continued. “We need to concentrate on getting rid of Potter once and for all.” He looked up, determined. “We will have to lead him here. To do that, we need the girl. If I know Potter, he will follow her here.”  
  
“But, my Lord,” Damien spoke up slowly. “How are we to get our hands on the girl?”  
  
“We will have to wait until they leave Hogwarts. After all, Dumbledore can’t watch over them forever.” He sighed. “It’s all for the best, I suppose. We need time to prepare.”  
  
Damien looked up. “Prepare, my Lord?”  
  
“When Potter comes to rescue her, he will not be alone. He will have Aurors…and he will have Dumbledore.” He turned away from Damien and suddenly called for Wormtail again.  
  
Wormtail came bursting through the door and into the room, his hands shaking. “Y-yes m-Master? You called?”  
  
“Alert the Death Eaters and the Dementors,” he said. “We are to begin preparing for another attack.”  
  
Wormtail shuddered and left the room. Voldemort turned to Damien once more.  
  
“You will go back to your fiancée, and get her to tell you everything she knows about Danielle Levine. But there is one thing you should know before you leave.”  
  
“What might that be?” asked Damien.  
  
“I became aware, after I killed the girl’s mother, that she had the unique trait of performing wandless magic. When they go back to Hogwarts on September 1st, I want you there. You will follow her, and report back anything useful that will help us get hold of her. But you must not be seen; her powers could prove troublesome.”  
  
Voldemort then waved his wand and produced a thin, silvery cloth out of thin air. He handed it to Damien.  
  
“Take this invisibility cloak with you,” he said. Damien took it gently.   
  
“What about Cameron?” Damien asked. “What if she gets suspicious?”  
  
Voldemort sighed. “Modify her memory. Or, better yet, do away with her altogether. Once we’ve got what we need, we no longer need her.”  
  
Damien bowed his head. “As you wish, Master.”  
  
He turned to leave, but Voldemort stopped him. He pushed up Damien’s sleeve to reveal the dark mark engraved upon his wrist. He lightly touched it with his wand, and Damien felt a sharp sensation.  
  
“When I want you back here, I will let you know,” he said calmly. “You are to come at once, do you understand?” 

Voldemort withdrew his wand, and Damien lowered his arm.  
  
Voldemort nodded approvingly. “I knew I made a good choice when I appointed you as a Death Eater,” he said. “You will do well, Damien. And I always reward those who do well.”  
  
Voldemort stepped back and Damien left. With a wave of his hand, the fire in the room went out, leaving a pair of glowing red eyes staring out among the darkness.  
  


* * *

 

“Ginny?” asked Ron. “Is this true? Did you really go to Dumbledore and suggest that Malfoy become a member?”  
  
Aware that all eyes were on her, Ginny took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I did,” she said, defiantly.  
  
Ron blinked. “But…why?” he asked.  
  
Ginny sighed. “Because, well, I’ve gotten to know him, and I think that he deserves a chance to be trusted.”  
  
Ron and Harry shared a bemused look, and Fred spoke up angrily.  
  
“But Ginny, how can you say that after all the nasty things this little git has done?”  
  
“Yeah, not to mention what he’s done to your friends?” George added accusingly.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Oh please, I wasn’t that bad.”  
  
Ginny sighed again. “You were horrible,” she said. She cleared her throat. “I’m aware of the things he’s done, okay? And I’m not saying that they were right, but everybody deserves a second chance, don’t they?”  
  
She gazed around the room. Ron, Fred, George, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were giving Malfoy dirty looks, but some of the others, like Luna, were looking at him with curious expressions. They were friends of Ginny’s, so they respected her decision.  
  
Hermione turned to Ginny, looking at her as though almost concerned. “But Ginny,” she said. “You and Malfoy barely know each other. How are you so sure he can be trusted?”  
  
At this, Ginny lowered her eyes, almost shamefully. “Well, um, like I said, I’ve gotten to know him,” she said quietly. “I ran into Draco last summer at Diagon Alley.”  
  
“You did? You never told me that!” said Ron, surprised.  
  
“Well, I don’t always have to tell you everything!” she spat at her brother. “Mum let me go off on my own, and I ran into Draco. He told me about his father…” She suddenly stopped, and realized that she was spilling this information to the whole room.  
  
She looked to Malfoy and said, “I’m sorry Draco, but can I just tell them…”  
  
Malfoy sighed. “No, by all means, continue on,” he said sarcastically. “It’s only my personal business….”  
  
“I know, Draco, but they deserve an explanation,” she said.  
  
“Oh, go ahead then,” Malfoy grumbled.  
  
“Anyway, he seemed really different and in need of a friend, so after I got back I owled him, and he owled me back, and then we kind of became…uh…acquaintances.”  
  
Hermione looked confused. “I’ve never seen you two talking together at Hogwarts,” she argued.  
  
“We didn’t really talk at school,” she explained. “We didn’t want to have moments like this, with people interrogating us and asking questions, and…”  
  
Harry could tell that she was getting angry, but Ron suddenly got a horrified look on his face.

“Wait a minute, you two aren’t…dating in secret or something, are you?” he asked, growing pale.   
  
At this Malfoy shouted out “What?” and Ginny became extremely red in the face. Lavender and Parvati were looking at her, scandalized.  
  
“Whoever said anything about dating?” Malfoy shouted, outraged. Ginny just shook her head.  
  
“Were not dating,” she said, getting redder by the minute. “You all are totally missing the point! We’re only friends…”  
  
“If you want to call it friends,” muttered Malfoy.  
  
“…And I was the one who told him to come to the D.A. meetings, so I could see once and for all if he really had changed,” she continued, ignoring Malfoy. “Well, obviously, he helped a lot during the attack and so I figured that it’d be really good for him to come here and join the Order.”  
  
Silence greeted the end of her speech, and nobody really knew what to say. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George were still looking at her, but Harry had his attention focused on Malfoy. He understood everything Ginny had said, because he too had noticed that Malfoy had changed. Now that his initial shock had worn off, he found that what Ginny was saying made perfect sense, and even though he couldn’t stand Malfoy, he could at least understand why he was here.  
  
After a few minutes the silence wore off and the room was filled with hushed conversation. Everyone became busy greeting each other, since they hadn’t had a chance to do so yet. Harry caught Cho on the opposite side of the room, holding Michael Corner’s hand, and saw Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, and Padma go off in a corner to speak. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley were huddled together in discussion. Malfoy just continued to sit there alone, a bored expression on his face.  
  
Harry was jerked out of his trance as Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. She beckoned for him, Ron, and Elle to follow her over to a corner. When they were out of earshot, Ron exploded.  
  
“Who does she think she is, running around with Malfoy? I swear if he’s said or done anything to her…”  
  
“Shh!” Hermione commanded, glancing over at Ginny. “She’ll hear you!”  
  
“I don’t care!” Ron continued. “I am not letting my little sister…”  
  
“Ron, you can’t control her!” Elle interrupted bluntly.  
  
Hermione, Harry, and Ron looked to her in surprise. She turned to Ron. “I think we should listen to Ginny and give Malfoy a chance. He did help us out during the attack. What makes this so different?”  
  
Ron sighed. “Elle, you don’t know Malfoy like we do,” he said. “If you had been here all these years to see what we put up with from him, then you would understand.”  
  
Elle nodded slowly. “I get it,” she said, “You guys have issues. But can’t you just grow up? With Voldemort out there getting more powerful and stronger by the minute, I think you should quit worrying about Malfoy and just be thankful that we have one more person willing to help us. We’re all supposed to be united, aren't we?"  
  
Ron stood there glaring at her, and then turned to Harry. “Harry, please tell me you’re on my side,” he said, through gritted teeth.  
  
Harry gave his friend a serious look. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But Elle’s right, and you know it. I’m not happy about having him here either, but it looks like we’re just going to have to forget about everything and accept that he’s changed, okay?”  
  
Hermione nodded and they all looked at Ron. He stood there looking angry for a few moments, but then finally sighed and said grumpily “Alright, fine.”  
  
Just then, a door opened up, and Dumbledore appeared, followed by Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundungus Fletcher, Lupin, Hagrid, McGonagall, and Snape. The room fell silent once more.  
  
“Good morning!” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. “I welcome you all to the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix! It appears to me that everyone has arrived, so I ask you to please come into the room behind me so that you all can get acquainted, and we can explain a bit about the plan for the rest of the summer.”  
  
They all nodded, and Dumbledore stepped aside as everybody stashed their trunks and hurried to get inside. Harry laid his own trunk and Hedwig’s cage against the wall and followed Ron and Hermione towards the doorway, Elle right behind him. Harry gave Lupin and Hagrid a friendly wave and entered the room, not knowing what to expect.  
  


* * *

 

The kitchen was large and almost unrecognizable. The walls and ceiling were bare, but in the center was a long wooden table that stretched the whole length of the room, and had about a hundred chairs seated on either side. It appeared to be magically stretched. At first it didn’t look big enough, but as Dumbledore beckoned for everybody to take a chair, Harry saw that there was room for everyone, and within a moment they were all seated comfortably around the table, anxiously looking at each other.  
  
Dumbledore sat at the head, with the Professors and elder Order members taking up the seats around him. The D.A. occupied the rest of the seats.  
  
“Now if I may have your attention,” said Dumbledore. “I would like to introduce you to some of our most trusted Order members. You all already know Professors McGonagall, Lupin, Hagrid, and Snape.”  
  
Dumbledore beckoned to each of the others in turn. “This is Alastor Moody” (he gave a small grunt), “Mundungus Fletcher” (who gave a little wave, his eyes off and wandering), “Kingsley Shacklebolt” (he nodded his head), “Nymphadora Tonks” (“It’s just Tonks!” she called out), “Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and Bill and Charlie Weasley” (all of them either nodded or waved as their names were called).  
  
Dumbledore then turned towards the D.A. “And here” he announced to the Order, “Are some of our most trusted D.A. members.” He called out their names as he went down the rows. “Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Elle Levine, Harry Potter, Michael Corner, Cho Chang, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Parvati Patil, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Padma Patil, Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan, and Justin Finch-Fletchley.”  
  
After their names were done being called out, Dumbledore glanced down at a sheet of parchment, which Harry recognized as the sheet that he, Ron, Hermione, and Elle had signed when they had first been asked to join the Order. Harry could see many other signatures on there as well. Finally Dumbledore looked up, satisfied that everyone was present.  
  
“I believe it is time we got down to business. I am extremely pleased that you all have agreed to join, but before we start, let me just say that the decision to let you all join was not considered lightly, and I hope that before we start, each and every one of you knows exactly what you are about to get into.”  
  
They all nodded, even Malfoy. Dumbledore went on.  
  
“You’ve all proved to have a great amount of strength, and that is why I have decided, although it will be dangerous, that you all must have the right to defend yourselves and become members of the Order.”  
  
Dumbledore then went on to explain to everyone the basics; what Voldemort was up to, and who he was trying to get on his side. Harry already knew all of this from his very night at Headquarters the summer before Fifth Year, so he spent most of the time watching everybody’s reactions. He was jerked back to attention, though, when Dumbledore said, “Are there any questions so far?”  
  
Elle slowly held up her hand. He gave her a slight nod.  
  
“I understand everything about his plans,” she said, her voice calm and clear. “But what are we going to do to stop Voldemort?”  
  
The D.A. looked towards Dumbledore, all of them wondering the exact same thing. Bill and Charlie exchanged a grin, and Lupin and Arthur Weasley shared a knowing glance.  
  
Dumbledore smiled a little and said, “We are going to fight him, of course.”  
  
“What do you mean, fight him?” asked Dean. “Do you mean like it was in the Forbidden Forest?”  
  
“Something a bit more organized than that, Mr. Thomas,” said Lupin.  
  
“What I mean,” said Dumbledore, “Is that Voldemort is planning to build an army of Dementors, Death Eaters, and possibly giants. We need to build an equally strong army.”  
  
“But how strong can it be, if it’s just us against Voldemort?” Harry asked.  
  
“It won’t be just us,” said McGonagall.  
  
“Who else will help us, Professor?” asked Hermione.  
  
“The Aurors,” announced Tonks. “All tof he Aurors employed by the Ministry of Magic.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded. “Even with the Aurors, we are still no match for dementors and giants. We are going to have to train extremely hard, and over the rest of the summer and throughout the school year you will be learning extremely advanced defense spells and curses. The kind of spells and curses needed to destroy Voldemort’s army.”  
  
Neville gulped, as he was never very good with spells. Some of the others looked a little uneasy as well. Harry saw Elle shudder next to him, and knew that she was probably remembering the Cruciatus Curse. Hermione tentatively raised her hand in the air, and Dumbledore inclined his head in her direction.  
  
“But sir, will spells and curses be able to kill giants? Aren’t they too large for anything of that sort to affect them?”  
  
“Quite right you are, Miss Granger, as always,” Dumbledore said. Hermione blushed. “Because of this reason, we are going to be battling with weapons, as well as our wands.”  
  
Fred and George looked up eagerly. “What kinds of weapons?” they asked together.  
  
Mrs. Weasley threw them a stern look, but they determinately focused their attention away from her.  
  
“You will be learning to duel with swords,” Dumbledore replied. “Magical swords, some which slice through the flesh and turn blood to venom, others which simply act as a shield. These swords are by far the greatest weapon our side could ever have, and they are extremely powerful.”  
  
Dumbledore gave an apologetic smile. “I apologize if I sound gruesome,” he said. “But they will be extraordinarily useful, and it will take tremendous practice to learn how to fight with them properly.” 

“Sword fighting?” Lavender asked, raising her hand. “But why? Will…will Voldemort’s army be using swords too?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, Miss Brown,” he replied. “They will be using their own swords. Not out of necessity- their wands will cause the most damage. I believe their army wishes to spill as much muggle and traitorous blood as possible. We will need blades that equal theirs in strength- mostly for protection, but to attack if necessary.”   
  
Ginny raised her hand, and then asked, “How much time do we have to prepare?”  
  
McGonagall addressed her this time. “We don’t know.”  
  
Silence ensued. Dumbledore resumed his speech.  
  
“We will not be practicing with the swords until we return to Hogwarts. Instead, the rest of this summer will be devoted to properly learning curses.”  
  
“But what about the people who won’t be going back to Hogwarts?” asked Cho. Fred and George nodded.  
  
“Well then,” said Dumbledore. “You’ll just have to become a full-time member for the Order, and travel to Hogwarts when you’re not needed at Headquarters.”  
  
They nodded, and Cho raised herself up a little in her chair, a self-important expression on her face. Elle was staring at her, and sat up a little straighter in her seat as well.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Are there any more questions? No? Okay,” he said, glancing around.  
  
“Everybody who is of age, and can apparate, will not have to stay here overnight.”  
  
Harry glanced around. There weren’t that many people who were of age, except some of his friends, Cho, Fred, George, and of course all the adults. Then with a little jolt, he realized something.  
  
“Hey!” he said, rather loudly and jumping out of his seat. “I’m of age now! I turned seventeen yesterday!”  
  
Dumbledore smiled at him. “Yes, Mr. Potter,” he said. “But seeing as how you haven’t yet learned to apparate, you will be staying here.”  
  
Harry sat back down, feeling rather excited. At least now he didn’t have to worry about getting expelled by doing accidental magic.  
  
“Mr. And Mrs. Weasley will be staying here as well,” continued Dumbledore, standing up. “I must be going, but I trust that you all have a good night’s rest and are ready for tomorrow. Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix.”  
  
And with a little bow, and a wink towards Harry, he threw his cloak over his shoulder and swept from the room.  
  
Some of the older Order members started to get up to leave as well, but Professor McGonagall stayed where she was and addressed them briskly.  
  
“Alright, may I have your attention!” she commanded authoritatively, looking down at a sheet of parchment. “On the second floor, in the first room, will be Longbottom, Potter, and Weasley, and in the second room, Miss Granger and Miss Levine. The third floor rooms will be taken by Misters Thomas, Finnigan, and Malfoy in one, and Miss Lovegood and Miss Weasley in the other.”  
  
Dean and Seamus looked daggers at Malfoy, who gave them an icy glare in return.  
  
“Last but not least, on the fourth floor will be the Patil twins and Miss Brown in one room, and Misters Macmillan, Finch-Fletchley, and Corner in the other.” She rolled up the parchment.  
  
“Those whose names I have called may move your things to your rooms at this time, and then settle in until dinner. Those who are not staying may feel free to leave. I expect to see you here tomorrow, on time.”  
  
Cho gave Michael a little kiss on the cheek, and then got up and left. Fred and George waved at everyone before leaving to apparate. Harry knew that they were anxious to get back to the joke shop, and wondered who would be running it while they were away. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was Lee Jordan.  
  
Without another look at Malfoy, Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig’s cage and followed Ron up to their room, which turned out to be Sirius’ old bedroom. He was glad to see it repurposed as a temporary dormitory for him, Ron, and Neville- he wouldn’t like Malfoy staying in it. He could hear everybody else making their way up the stairs, and he stopped outside his room to tell Elle and Hermione that they’d visit with them as soon as they were done unpacking.  
  
Elle and Hermione disappeared into the room next door, and heaving his trunk inside, Harry disappeared behind Neville.  
  


* * *

 

The afternoon quickly dwindled away, and soon Mrs. Weasley was calling everybody into the kitchen for dinner. They settled in at the long table in the kitchen once more, and as Mrs. Weasley set food down upon it, they all scrambled for chairs, chattering between bites. Snape and Moody didn’t stay to eat, but everybody else did, so there was never a lull in the conversation. Ron kept shooting dirty looks over at Malfoy throughout the entire meal.  
  
Not long after the food was cleared away and the talking in the room died down, did Mrs. Weasley order everybody to get to bed. The D.A. members trudged off to their respective bedrooms, calling goodnight to each other from the upstairs and downstairs landings.  
  
Elle and Hermione got into their beds, and Elle pointed her finger at the light and the room was plunged into darkness. She had expected for them to stay up talking most of the night, but found herself yawning, and before long she had fallen asleep.  
  
The night dragged on, and Grimmauld Place became quieter and quieter with each passing moment. Everybody was asleep by now, and there was not a sound to be heard, not even a creak of a floorboard or a steady drip from a faucet.  
  
Until the clock struck midnight.  
  
Suddenly, Elle bolted up in her bed, shaking, her breathing uneven. She blinked, but couldn’t make out anything in the darkness.  
  
“Lumos!” she whispered. A light burst into life from under her pillow, where she’d stashed her wand. She withdrew it and pointed it around, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary.  
  
She closed her eyes, and tried to remember what had scared her so badly that she had woken up. It was a nightmare…a terrible nightmare that she could only remember having once before, the night her parents had died. She shuddered slightly. It had seemed so real.  
  
She lay back down, trying to calm down and go back to sleep, but it was no use. She was wide-awake. Knowing that she would regret this in the morning, she decided to get up and go down into the kitchen to get something to drink. She silently stood up and tiptoed over to the door, trying not to wake Hermione. She slowly opened up the door, and noiselessly slipped out.  
  
Gripping the handlebar, she walked down the stairs and made her way towards the kitchen. The whole place seemed completely different in the dark and, fully hoping she was going into the right room, she pushed open the kitchen door and stepped inside. When she did, she let out a little gasp.  
  
There was already somebody in there. Draco Malfoy, who had been sitting in one of the chairs, whipped around, completely taken by surprise. He was holding a bottle of butterbeer and was wearing a black velvet robe. He had apparently lit the candles that were placed in the center of the table, for the room was bathed in light.  
  
He and Elle stared at each other for a moment, until he quickly regained his composure and said, in a bored voice, “Hello.”  
  
“You scared me!” Elle said softly, her heartbeat returning to normal. “What are you doing in here so late?”  
  
He gave her a small glare. “I could ask you the same question.”  
  
“I, uh, couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, getting a bottle of butterbeer for herself out of the cupboard. “What’s your excuse?”  
  
“Dean and Seamus,” he muttered. “They don’t seem to appreciate having me as a roommate.”  
  
Elle plopped into the chair in front of him. Malfoy gave her an affronted look.  
  
“You’re Potter’s girlfriend,” he said, with a slight sneer.  
  
“I usually go by Elle,” she replied, annoyed at the look he was giving her. “And you’re the infamous Draco Malfoy.”  
  
“So you’ve heard of me?”  
  
“Well, we have played each other in Quidditch. Of course. Harry and Ron talk about you all the time. I have to say, you don’t seem as evil as they make you out to be.”  
  
He raised his eyebrows. “Does the term ‘blunt’ mean anything to you?” he asked. “Though they may be right. I am evil.”  
  
Elle bit her lip to keep from giggling. "I've never had an evil acquaintance before," she said, sipping her butterbeer. "It's nice to meet you."  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and tilted the bottle towards her. "I would say likewise, but it's a known fact that Potter and I are sworn enemies. I'm sure he wouldn't want me fraternizing with his girlfriend."  
  
Elle raised her eyebrows this time. "Well, you fraternize with his best friend's little sister, and that doesn't seem to stop you," she said slowly. "Besides, I make my own decisions on whom to talk to."  
  
Malfoy shrugged, and downed the rest of his bottle. "Well, perhaps you'll change your mind after getting to know me," he said in a sardonic tone. "I'm trying to perfect a dark and brooding personality, after all." He gave her a look. "I've seen your personality from afar, and well, you seem a little too perky and bright for my taste. No offense."  
  
Elle smiled. "None taken. But I think you should really get to know someone before passing judgement. I thought Ginny would have taught you that."  
  
Malfoy swallowed uncomfortably. "She did. But still...Potter's girlfriend..."  
  
"Elle," she corrected again, swiftly. "And I want to say...I'm sorry about your father. My parents are dead too."

They sat in silence for a long while after this, with Malfoy not quite knowing what to say. He was never that good at making friends; only lackeys. Elle stared at him for a little bit, before finishing her drink and standing up. She threw away the empty bottle and turned to leave, but before she did she looked back at Malfoy.  
  
“You know, if you want to be evil, maybe joining the Order of the Phoenix wasn’t the best move. I’ll see you around.”  
  
And with that, she turned to go back to bed. Malfoy was left sitting by himself, a frown forming on his face.  
  



	25. A Gift of Power

After Elle crept back upstairs, the rest of the night went by undisturbed. Unfortunately, morning came too soon, and before long Hermione was perched on the edge of Elle’s bed, fully dressed in jeans and a blue jumper, coaxing her to get up.  
  
“Come on Elle, get up!” Hermione pleaded, prodding her. “Everybody else is already up, everyone’s arrived by now, and we’re supposed to be downstairs in five minutes!”  
  
Elle groaned and sat up, her hair disheveled. She yawned and stretched.  
  
“Calm down Hermione, I’ll be ready in a second,” Elle said. She threw off her covers and went to the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later wrapped in a towel, her hair wet. Hermione had stayed behind to wait for her.  
  
“How come you’re so tired?” Hermione asked accusingly. “You went to sleep the same time that I did.”  
  
Elle shrugged, figuring it was best not to tell her friend about the nightmare, and then the late night meeting with Draco Malfoy. She quickly got dressed in jeans and a white jumper, and then looked at herself in the mirror. She hurriedly tossed her hair into a high ponytail, rammed her feet into some sneakers, and then she and Hermione left to go downstairs.  


* * *

Harry looked up as Hermione and Elle entered the room. Hermione looked a little bit miffed, and Elle looked extremely tired. Hermione walked over to Ron, and Elle came up next to Harry.  
  
“Hey,” she said, slipping her hand into his. She looked as if something were bothering her.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.  
  
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Elle whispered, not wanting to attract any attention. “I sort of…had a nightmare.”  
  
Harry frowned. “Why didn’t you come to me then? You didn’t have to stay in your room.”  
  
“I didn’t,” Elle replied. “I went downstairs to get a drink.”  
  
“You mean you were wandering around down here alone? Elle, that’s dangerous!”  
  
“Well, I wasn’t alone,” Elle said simply, dropping his hand. Harry raised his eyebrows.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I kind of ran into Malfoy.”  
  
“What? You didn’t stay with him, did you?”  
  
“For a while, yeah.”  
  
“Elle!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You should’ve come to me!”  
  
“I don’t have to come to you about every little thing!”  
  
Harry was just about to snap back at her, when Dumbledore entered the room. Everybody stopped what he or she was doing and looked up, as they always did whenever Dumbledore entered. Harry took a deep breath, still a little ticked off.  
  
The D.A. members were mostly huddled in separate corners of the room, and the older Order members were seated at the long wooden table. Dumbledore gestured for them to gather around.  
  
“Today we will be practicing very serious curses.” He paused for a moment, and then said, “I’m sure all of you know which curses I’m talking about.”  
  
Harry realized at once that Dumbledore was talking about the Unforgivable curses. Dumbledore continued, confirming Harry’s thoughts.  
  
“We,” he motioned towards Lupin, McGonagall, Snape, and Tonks, “are going to teach you the proper way of using the Unforgivable curses, as well as protecting yourself against them. Those who had Professor Moody's imposter as their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor may have prior knowledge as to their uses and effects.”  
  
Moody rolled his good eye and gave a muffled groan.   
  
“But, sir, aren’t the Unforgivable curses illegal?” asked Dean.  
  
“Of course,” said Dumbledore. “But that won’t stop Voldemort, and it won’t stop us either.”  
  
There was some murmuring and nervous giggling at this. Lavender tentatively raised her hand, then said, “But, Professor, those curses are highly dangerous! You can’t perform them on us! That's what Mad-Eye Moody tried to do!” She chanced a glance at the real Moody, then hesitated. "I mean, the other Moody."   
  
“I assure, you Miss Brown, none of you are in danger,” spoke Lupin, who was next to Dumbledore. “Not right now, anyway. You will not be put under any of the curses. We will be going about this a different way, speaking as another Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. You will be practicing on these spiders.”  
  
Snape produced a large jar of spiders from under the table and set it down roughly. Ron gave an ugly gasp and immediately backed into the far corner of the room.  
  
“Where are we going to be practicing?” Harry asked. “Do we have enough room in here?”  
  
McGonagall shook her head. “We are going to travel to Hogwarts and use the Quidditch Pitch. It’s empty over the summer.”  
  
“How are we getting there?” asked Ginny. “Brooms?”  
  
“The Knight bus?” asked Hermione.  
  
“Floo Powder?” suggested Fred and George.  
  
“I hope not,” Elle whispered to Harry, who laughed. Then he remembered he was supposed to be mad at her.  
  
Dumbledore smiled at them. “We will be going by Portkey.”  
  
He turned around and opened a cabinet, bringing out a large, chipped teakettle. He set it down on the table next to the spiders and drew out his wand. He touched his wand to the kettle, and said “Portus.” The teakettle glowed for an instant, and then went back to normal. Dumbledore looked around.  
  
“It will be rather tight, but gather round the best you can.”  
  
Elle was looking nervous again, and turned to Harry.  
  
“Am I going to get lost?” she asked miserably.  
  
Harry grinned assuredly. He decided to shelve the conversation about her late night run-in with Malfoy until later. “No,” he promised.  
  
They all squeezed around the portkey the best they could, and touched a finger to it. Once Dumbledore was sure that everyone was ready to go, he touched his own finger to the kettle and after a couple of seconds, Harry felt the familiar pull coming from around his navel. Practically crushing Elle’s fingers with his other hand, they were off in a rush of wind and color.  


* * *

 

With a thud, Harry found himself face down on the ground, practically swallowing a mouthful of grass. As he got up, he looked around and found himself on the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. Everybody around him was also on the floor, and only Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, Tonks, and Snape had managed to stay on their feet. Elle stood up next to him, brushing off grass and dirt.  
  
Once everybody was on their feet and ready to go, Dumbledore led them to the middle of the Quidditch Pitch and they all lined up in one large horizontal row facing the rest of the teachers. Dumbledore instructed them to take out their wands, and then Snape walked toward them carrying the spiders. He held out the jar to each of them and one by one, they nervously stuck their hands in and pulled out one of the spiders. When it was Ron’s turn to take one, his face turned extremely pale and very fast, with his eyes closed, he pulled one of the smaller spiders out and proceeded to hold it far away from his face.  
  
“Okay,” said Lupin, once everybody was equipped with his or her own spider. “The first curse we are going to do is the Imperius Curse which, as you already know, can control another person completely. It is very difficult to resist, and in order to throw it off you need a very strong sense of self-control. Now, if you please, watch me.”  
  
He took a spider for himself, and then set it on the ground. Before the spider could scuttle off, he first pointed his wand at it and said “Engorgio!” The spider swelled to about the size of a small bush. Ron shuddered. Then, as the spider started to scurry off, he yelled “Imperio!” The spider froze and then, just like it had back in their fourth year during Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it started doing back flips across the field, with an occasional fancy twirl. A few people gave an anxious laugh.  
  
After a few minutes, Lupin lifted his wand and the spider stopped doing flips. Instead, It stood stock still with shock. “Reducio,” he said, and the spider shrank back to normal size. Lupin picked it up and dropped it back into the jar.  
  
“Not as easy as it looks,” said Lupin, with a small smile. “As I said, extreme concentration and will of mind is essential. Now, I want you all to try the exact same thing. But believe me, none of you will be able to get it right on your first try; it takes a tremendous amount of practice. Myself, along with Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Tonks will be going around giving help. And also,” he added as an afterthought. “When you give the spiders orders from inside your heads, only give them simple commands, and absolutely nothing dangerous. If you happen to lose your spider, you may take another one from the jar.”  
  
“Okay,” commanded Lupin. “All together now. Engorgio!”  
  
“Engorgio!” they all echoed, and suddenly there were many enlarged spiders standing before them. Ron was practically quivering with fear, and a lot of other people looked uneasy as well.  
  
“Imperio!” they yelled next. All the spiders stood still. Harry concentrated, holding his wand firmly, and telepathically told the spider to do a back flip. The whole field was soundless as people gave silent orders, but the spiders continued to remain motionless.

Only Hermione’s spider gave a slight twitch, and then started rocking back forth. After a couple of minutes, her spider performed what was, unmistakably, a somersault. Elle gave Hermione an amazed look.  
  
“How did you do that?” she asked her.  
  
“Miss Levine, you must remember to keep your concentration,” said Lupin gently.  
  
“Oops, sorry,” she said, turning back to her spider. But since she had lowered her wand, the spider had scampered off towards the Forbidden Forest and vanished from view. Snape sighed, and handed her the jar.  
  
“I should have known you’d be the first,” he muttered. After he walked away, Elle stuck out her tongue toward his back.  
  
“Elle!” Hermione hissed.  
  
“Well, it seems as if Miss Granger’s got the hang of it,” said Dumbledore, giving her an approving smile. “Not to worry, I hardly expected any of you to get it right on the first try.”  
  
Hermione was wearing an embarrassed, yet proud expression. Lupin walked forward and eyed them all.  
  
“Once again?” he asked.  


* * *

 

They spent the rest of the day practicing the Imperius curse, and by the middle of the afternoon almost all of them had gotten it right. Even Elle had managed to perfect it by making her spider spin around on its hind legs. The only one who still needed a bit more practice was Neville, but for the most part they knew what they were doing. Draco Malfoy seemed to know how to perform the curse perfectly; he was the second one after Hermione who got it right.  
  
Over the next few weeks, they were taught the Cruciatus curse and the Avada Kedavra curse in addition to the Imperius curse, so that they now knew all three of the Unforgivable curses. They traveled to Hogwarts by Portkey every day, practicing the curses on spiders in the Quidditch Pitch and then returning to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place at night to have dinner and to occasionally attend meetings, discussing any updates on Voldemort’s plans.  
  
The Professors were very serious about teaching them the killing curse and the Cruciatus curse, explaining that when faced in a real-live battle, they would be a lot harder to perform. It had been quite unnerving to perform the same curses that Death Eaters used to torture and murder, but nonetheless, they were determined and willing to learn if it meant that it would help to defeat Voldemort.  
  
Despite the seriousness of what they were here to do, Harry found that he was having the time of his life here at Grimmauld Place with all his friends. Everybody just sort of hung out with each other throughout the house in different rooms, staying far away from the entrance hall where the portrait of Sirius’s mother still hung. Malfoy kept pretty much to himself; in fact, the only person who Harry could see him talking to was Ginny. She seemed like the only one willing to tolerate him, even though her brothers kept shooting her dirty looks every time the two chose to speak.  
  
Lavender and Parvati avoided Elle. Ever since the fight between Lavender and Elle, the girls hadn’t exactly been the best of friends. But that didn’t stop Elle from being friendly with everyone else in the house. In fact, she got along with pretty much everyone. Harry came to find that his exuberant girlfriend was usually the center of attention, whether she wanted to be or not. Elle was always the one talking the loudest and laughing the hardest, occasionally setting off the screaming portrait on accident.  
  
Elle and Harry, when they were together, were always entertaining to watch as well. They joked around, argued, and teased each other every chance they got. Even at times when Harry got frustrated with her, he still had to admit that Elle certainly livened things up around Grimmauld Place. He only wished that she could have met Sirius- he knew Sirius would have appreciated a bright, rebellious presence in the house.   
  
Their grueling days of practice demanded more lighthearted fare in the evenings. One day Elle, after poking around the house a bit, discovered an old muggle record player stashed in the attic. She brought it down into the den and Tonks helped her get it to work. Soon, a medieval, Celtic melody began playing and everyone soon gathered around, relaxing on sofas and listening to the music. A jig came on soon after, and Tonks began to teach them a dance. Within moments all the students were on their feet, forming a circle, clapping their hands and dancing to the music.  
  
Elle kicked off her shoes, and soon all the girls were barefoot. Tonks grabbed Lupin by the hand and led him into the center of the circle. Lupin twirled her around and dipped her back, making the moves look effortless. Soon everyone had followed their lead and grabbed a partner. Despite his reluctance for dancing, Harry took Elle’s waist and spun her in circles. Elle threw her head back and laughed, allowing herself to be wheeled across the floor.

The music played on- all nightmares and curses were long forgotten. Everyone, with the exception of Malfoy, continued dancing in a big circle well into the night. Nobody even noticed the persistent shouts of Sirirus’ mother.  
  
It was hard to believe that in a short amount of time, they would be heading back to school for their seventh and final year. Harry couldn’t even imagine what life would be like after Hogwarts, and he couldn’t believe that six full years had gone by so fast. With only one more week left of summer, they would soon be going to Diagon Alley to get their school supplies before term started on September 1st.  
  
Dumbledore assured them that once they got back to school, the Order of the Phoenix would continue to meet in the Room of Requirement. Harry figured that with Order meetings, Quidditch, homework, and preparations for their N.E.W.T.s, that this was going to be a very busy year.  


* * *

 

Elle walked out of the kitchen talking excitedly with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They had just come out of an especially interesting Order meeting, in which Dumbledore had expressed his pleasure at how quickly they had learned the Unforgivable curses and that with a bit more practice, they would be ready to learn how to use the magic swords. They were all equally excited at the prospect of learning how to swordfight.  
  
Since it was late, the four of them didn’t stay up talking very long and said their goodnights shortly after they had gone upstairs.  
  
Elle got into bed and closed her eyes immediately after her head hit the pillow. It had been a long and exhausting day, and she tried not to think of all the dead spiders she had seen on the ground after performing the killing curse on them, or the look on Neville’s face every time they practiced the Cruciatus curse. It was a look of pure sadness and yet incredible determination, and it was not a sight that she was to forget anytime soon.

She wished the summer had been filled with more dancing, and less death. The Avada Kedavra curse was hard on her and Harry too- it was how both of their parents died. At least Harry was the only one able to survive it.Shaking the images from her mind, she quickly fell asleep.  
  
Hours later, long after midnight had come and gone, Elle screamed and woke up once more in her bed, shaking with fright. It was the nightmare again- the same one she had had the first night here, and the one she had been having every other night since she arrived. Like all the other times, she couldn’t remember exactly what it was she had dreamt; only that it was extremely vivid and incredibly horrifying.  
  
Hermione sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes groggily, and turned on the lights.  
  
“Oh, Elle, not again,” she said.  
  
“It’s nothing,” said Elle quietly. “Just go back to sleep. It was only a stupid nightmare.”  
  
“Elle, this isn’t just some ‘stupid nightmare’ if you keep dreaming it.”  
  
“I’m fine…” she started to say, but was interrupted when the door flung open. Harry, Ron, and Neville entered the room, in their pajamas.  
  
“What happened?” demanded Harry, looking around.  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron yawning. “Who screamed?”  
  
“It was me,” Elle sighed. “It was only a nightmare and I’m fine now, so you can all go back to bed…”  
  
“Elle, it’s not just a nightmare!” said Hermione adamantly. She looked towards the boys. “Elle’s been waking up practically every night from this horrid nightmare she’s been having, and I’m starting to think that something might seriously be wrong…”  
  
“There’s nothing wrong!” Elle insisted, a little annoyed now. “It’s nothing, I swear!”  
  
“How come you haven’t told us?” asked Harry, rounding on her.  
  
“I didn’t think that it was very important,” she said, not meeting Harry’s eyes.  
  
“But it might be important,” said Harry persistently.  
  
“Yeah,” said Neville. “Elle, I think you should tell Dumbledore.”  
  
“What?” she exclaimed. “Tell Dumbledore? Why would he be interested in something as stupid as my nightmares?”  
  
“Trust me,” said Harry grimly. “He’d want to know.”  
  
Just then, there was a sharp knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley stuck her head through the opening, peering in at them.  
  
“What’s all this noise?” she asked. “What are you all doing out of bed?”  
  
“Mum, Elle had a nightmare,” said Ron. “Not a normal nightmare, a repeating one that keeps waking her up. We reckon she should tell Dumbledore about it.”  
  
Elle shot him an irritated look, but Mrs. Weasley turned towards her, looking worried.  
  
“Are you all right, dear?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Elle replied, sighing in defeat.  
  
“Well, you’re all in luck then,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Dumbledore’s just arrived. Why don’t you lot come down to the kitchen, and do try not to wake anybody else up. You can speak with Dumbledore, and I’ll make you some tea.”  
  
They all nodded and followed Mrs. Weasley out of the room. Harry waited for Elle to get out of bed and throw on a bathrobe. She came over to Harry, her face oddly pale. She followed him out of the room and then fell into step between him and Ron.  
  
“I wonder what Dumbledore’s doing here?” asked Ron curiously. “What could be so important that he had to come in the middle of the night?”  
  
They filed into the kitchen and Mrs. Weasley lit up the room with a wave of her wand. Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley were already sitting at the kitchen table, deep in discussion. However, they looked up when everyone entered.  
  
“What are you all doing up?” asked Mr. Weasley, the same time Hermione asked “What are you doing here, Professor?”  
  
Dumbledore gave her a light smile, but remained silent. Mrs. Weasley bustled over to the table.  
  
“They wished to speak with you,” she said to Dumbledore. “I wouldn’t have brought them down if I didn’t think it was important.”  
  
“It’s quite alright,” replied Dumbledore calmly. He looked up at them and gestured to the seats around him. “Please, sit.”  
  
They sat down. Dumbledore smiled warmly and asked, “So, what appears to be the problem?”  
  
They all looked towards Elle. She sighed and shifted a little in her seat.  
  
“For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been having these nightmares.”  
  
“I see,” said Dumbledore slowly. “And what happens in these nightmares?”  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron, trying to lighten the mood. “What happens? Do you break a nail?”  
  
She glared at him. “I’m not exactly sure,” she said quietly. “It’s almost like as soon as I wake up, I forget.”  
  
She trailed off, looking a little shaken. By now they were all staring at her with bewildered looks. But Dumbledore continued to observe her with the same calm, patient gaze. Elle suddenly became embarrassed.  
  
“I swear, I’m not crazy!” she insisted. “I wouldn’t even have come to you about this, but they made me!”  
  
“I’m glad you told me,” said Dumbledore, sending her into silence. “How long did you say you’ve been having these nightmares?”  
  
She shrugged. “A couple of weeks, I guess. It started on the first night we arrived, and it’s been happening every couple of nights since then. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Hermione. “And neither have I.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded slowly. “So these nightmares have been occurring since the start of August,” he confirmed. Elle nodded.  
  
“Interesting,” he said quietly. “I wonder…”  
  
“Wonder what?” Elle asked eagerly.  
  
Dumbledore looked straight at her. “Your seventeenth birthday is at the end of the month, correct?”

Elle nodded again. Dumbledore looked pensive for a moment, and then said softly, “I may have the answer to your problem. But I cannot be sure just yet. I might be able to tell you what the nightmares mean. If I’m wrong, then I’ll figure out another explanation. In any case, I am sure that these nightmares will go away.”  
  
Elle nodded and looked confused, but didn’t dare to ask any more questions on the subject. Harry glanced at her and they shared a bemused gaze, none of them having any idea what Dumbledore was talking about or what was going on.  
  
Mrs. Weasley levitated over cups of hot tea. The room was silent for a moment as they all drank.  
  
“Excuse me, Professor,” said Hermione after a few moments, breaking the silence. “But we couldn’t help wonder why you were here so late.”  
  
“Do you remember the weapons I was telling you about?” asked Dumbledore quietly.  
  
“You mean those swords?” said Ron eagerly. Dumbledore nodded.  
  
“Until now, the Ministry has kept them locked in the Department of Mysteries, but I figured that it would be much safer if I were to store them here instead. Once we go back to Hogwarts, I will relocate them. I had to bring them here at night; I couldn’t risk anyone at the Ministry asking questions.”  
  
They all nodded in understanding and finished up their tea in silence. Dumbledore stood.  
  
“Well, I must be going,” he said. He turned to them. “Do not worry about getting up early tomorrow. In the afternoon, Mrs. Weasley and Tonks have kindly agreed to go with you all to Diagon Alley. You have a great deal to buy, no doubt.” He turned to Mrs. Weasley. “I thank you for the tea, Molly.” He then disappeared from the room.  
  
“Well, you heard your Headmaster,” said Mrs. Weasley, collecting their empty cups of tea. “Off to bed. We have lots of shopping to do tomorrow!”  
  
They thanked her for the tea and quietly climbed up the stairs to their rooms. Harry took Elle aside after everyone had gone back to bed, before she could disappear into her room.  
  
“Hey,” he said quietly to her. “How come you never told me you had the nightmare again?”  
  
She shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” she said honestly. She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you, but please, don’t worry.” She smiled a little. “I can take care of myself, you know.”  
  
He sighed. “I know you can,” he said. “But will you at least come to me if it happens again?”  
  
“I doubt it,” she said, looking away.  
  
“Elle!” Harry exclaimed, frustrated. “I’m just trying to help! Why do you have to be so stubborn?”  
  
“What’s the problem?” she asked, becoming angry. “Everybody’s making a big deal out of nothing! And you’re being a little controlling.”  
  
Harry sighed. He hadn’t meant to get her angry, but she wasn’t exactly cooperating either. it was no use arguing in the middle of the night. Plus, she had a point- he did need to give her some space. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said bitterly.  
  
“I’m sure you will.”  
  
With that, they vanished into their separate rooms.  
  
The last week of the summer flew by. At Diagon Alley they had a chance to purchase their new schoolbooks and the proper materials they’d need to prepare for their N.E.W.T.s. Hermione was already starting to panic. She spent most of her time lecturing the three of them that this year was going to be very important, and that if they didn’t bother to pay attention, then she refused to lend them her notes. None of them really listened; they all knew Hermione wouldn’t dare let them fail.  
  
Elle had chosen to ignore the argument between her and Harry. But Harry could tell that the nightmares were still bothering her; she always appeared exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept at all, and her eyes were always puffy and red. But Harry didn’t say anything more about the subject of nightmares. When he had had those nighttime visions of Voldemort, he hadn’t really felt like talking about those either. Plus, he himself still had nightmares about Sirius disappearing through the veil.  
  
Finally, the last day of August arrived. Early that morning everyone dragged themselves out of bed, some packing their things for the journey back to school tomorrow, others shuffling downstairs to have their last breakfast at Grimmauld Place, which Mrs. Weasley was setting out on the kitchen table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat together at the table, plates piled high with eggs and bacon. They talked and ate, while Harry turned towards Hermione.  
  
“Where’s Elle?” he asked. He knew it was her birthday, and he didn’t want her spending it tired and scared.  
  
“Where do you think?” laughed Hermione. “She’s still in bed. I’m thinking about just going in there and throwing her down the stairs.” She turned to Ron. “Have you packed your trunk yet?”  
  
“Um, I was going to get around to it,” Ron said vaguely.  
  
“Ron! We don’t have much time, we’re leaving tomorrow!”  
  
“Relax, Hermione,” said Ron calmly. “Just think of that long train ride back to school. What are we going to do to pass the time?”  
  
Hermione calmed down, and smiled. “I have a few ideas,” she said, very uncharacteristically, leaning in to kiss Ron.  
  
“Guys, please, I just ate!” said Harry.  
  
Ron and Hermione gave sheepish grins and pulled apart, their faces red.  


* * *

 

Meanwhile, Elle bolted up in bed, yawning and stretching. Something was different. She could feel it. She rubbed her eyes and blinked. Hermione was already gone, no doubt eating breakfast. She sat there, trying to think of what was so different, when it hit her. Today was her seventeenth birthday. She was of age.  
  
She also realized that for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t tired. She felt fully rested and awake, and she remembered that last night had been free of nightmares. She smiled to herself, thinking that maybe Dumbledore was right, and the nightmares had gone away. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up, when she noticed something else that was different. Her hands were trembling.  
  
Elle raised her hands up to her face. An odd, shimmering, green light was glowing around her fingers.  
  
She flexed her hands and stared, mystified, at the light surrounding her fingers. It was very faint, but definitely noticeable. She soon became aware that her whole body felt strange and different. She rushed over to the wall length mirror and stared at herself. She still looked the same. Except for her hands, everything else remained exactly the same.  
  
She quickly dressed, and then turned towards the mirror once more, ready to start doing her hair. The next instant, a hairbrush that was lying on the nightstand floated over to her, without Elle pointing at it.  
  
Bewildered, she grabbed the brush and yanked it through her hair. That was new- usually she needed eye contact to summon objects, or at least needed to point her finger. She stood back and gave herself one last approving glance. Oh yeah, something had definitely changed.  
  
She walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen. She was dimly aware of the fact that her fingers were still glowing, and hid her hands behind her back.  
  
She walked over to Harry. He gave her a weird look.  
  
“Did you do something different to your hair or something?”  
  
“No,” said Elle, a little impatiently.  
  
“Well, something’s different about you. What’s that?” asked Harry, noticing her hands and grabbing them from behind her. “Did you accidentally touch something strange? I know the house has been disinfected, but still…”  
  
“I have no idea,” muttered Elle, yanking her hands out of his touch. “Listen, I really need to talk to you. Can we get out of here?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Harry started to say, but broke off when he saw Dumbledore heading towards them.  
  
“Come with me,” said Dumbledore softly, motioning for them to follow him out of the room and into the hallway. Dumbledore closed the door to the kitchen behind him.  
  
“Well,” he said slowly, facing Elle. “It seems that I am correct.”  
  
“What’s going on?” Elle asked.  
  
Dumbledore stared down at her. “I realized this the night you came to me about your nightmares.” He took a deep breath. “Or, for want of a better word, panic attacks.”

Elle blinked. “Panic attacks? Me?” She frowned in confusion. “But there’s nothing to be panicked about…is there?”

Dumbledore looked at her seriously. “Some would say being a part of the anti-Voldemort movement, and learning the Unforgiveable curses, would count as something to cause anxiety. It’s a normal reaction, especially for those whose emotions are more sensitive than others. Or, in your case…for those whose thoughts and feelings produce an effect we call telekinesis, or wandless magic.”

Harry and Elle looked at each other. “I’m sorry, I’m not exactly following,” Elle said quietly.

“Elle, your parents put a spell on you when you were born.”  
  
Elle’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of spell?”  
  
“It is an American tradition, in which the parents of a newborn witch or wizard casts a spell on their child, so that when they come of age, the power of an ancestor gets passed down to them. Your parents must have wanted this to be a surprise.”  
  
“Power?” Elle asked doubtfully. “I don’t think my ancestors had any cool powers.”  
  
“They had the power of wandless magic. Which it seems, now, has been passed on to you.”  
  
Elle laughed. “I’ve always been able to do that. It’s not that impressive.”  
  
“Yes, but until now, you’ve only been able to use a small portion of your ability. Working simple spells and levitating objects, correct?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” said Elle, a little embarrassed.  
  
Dumbledore smiled down at her. “The mind is a powerful thing. My guess is that with enough patience and concentration, you’ll have the power to perform any magic in the world with the point of a finger, a glance, or even a thought.”  
  
Elle still looked skeptical. “And the nightmares?” she asked Dumbledore. “I mean, the panic attacks? What do they have to do with this?”  
  
“They may be an unfortunate side effect of the spell. Since your mind is turning into such a powerful device, I assume that you will start having such nightmares every once in a while. However, since your ancestors don’t have the power of mind-reading, it is hard for you to decipher what they mean.”  
  
Elle nodded to show that she understood, but appeared to be deep in thought. After a couple of moments, she looked up at Dumbledore again.  
  
“Why did my parents put this spell on me? I mean, there must have been a reason, right?”  
  
“Elle, your parents knew what kind of evil existed in this world. They would have wanted you to have this sort of power, in order to protect yourself. Many people chose to perform this spell on their children when they are born.” He sighed. “I am sure they fully intended on explaining it to you when you came of age. I’m sorry; you’ll have to accept my dismal explanation on their behalf.”  
  
Elle sighed too. “I still don’t understand how all of a sudden I can do new things. What is so different now that I couldn’t do before?”  
  
“Let me ask you something,” said Dumbledore patiently. “Can you think of a more complicated spell that you could only do before using your wand?”  
  
“Well,” Elle replied, thinking. “I couldn’t conjure a Patronus without using my wand. It’s too difficult.”  
  
“Try it now,” said Dumbledore gently.  
  
“Okay,” said Elle, doubting that this was going to work. She was going to make a fool out of herself for sure, and then Dumbledore was going to realize that she didn’t have any “new powers”…she was just a freak of nature.  
  
Elle turned around and thought for a moment, trying to think of a happy moment. A vivid image of Harry telling her he loved her in the hospital wing sprang to mind.  
  
“Expecto Patronum!” she whispered, holding out her hands. Her fingers suddenly glowed vividly, and before she knew it, a silvery white tiger appeared out of thin air. It trotted down the hallway gallantly before disappearing into thin mist.  
  
“Can I try something else?” she asked Dumbledore, sounding awed.  
  
“Of course,” he said.  
  
She looked around, trying to think of what else she could try. She spotted a small statue over by the corner, raised her finger, and spoke the word “Reducto!” A green light, almost like an electric shock, shot from her fingertip and blasted the statue apart. A second later, she called “Reparo!” and the statue went back to normal.  
  
“You see?” said Dumbledore slowly. “It is most extraordinary.”  
  
But Elle’s expression had changed from her initial one of shock and skepticism to one that was dazed, and a little unhappy. She stood there in silence a few moments, thinking.  
  
“Why me?” she said softly. “Why is this happening to me? Why would anyone want me to have these wandless powers?” As she spoke, her fingers glowed green.  
  
“Your parents obviously had a very good reason for wanting you to have these powers,” Dumbledore told her gently. “I am only sorry that they are not alive now to help you deal with them.” Dumbledore looked down at her glowing fingers. “The power is channeled through your hands, and your emotions will affect them. You’ll need to work on keeping them in check.”  
  
There was silence for another moment. Elle sighed. She remembered she wasn’t the only with special abilities- Tonks was a Metamorphmagus, Lupin was a werewolf, Professor McGonagall was an Animagus, and Harry himself could speak Parseltongue. If they could all control their abilities, even Lupin, then so could she.  
  
“You know, I would’ve been so pleased with just a Happy Birthday,” she said, with a hint of a smile. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and the glow around her fingers dimmed.  
  
“Happy Birthday!” said Harry helpfully.  
  
“Come now, let’s go back inside,” said Dumbledore, turning to go back into the kitchen.  
  
“Sir?” asked Elle. “We don’t have to tell anyone about this, right?”  
  
“Certainly not,” said Dumbledore. “Nobody has to know, if that is your wish.”  
  
“It is,” insisted Elle.  
  
She turned and walked back into the kitchen. Dumbledore sighed and turned to Harry.  
  
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Harry said, reading the look on Dumbledore’s face.  
  
Dumbledore nodded. “She may not wear a scar, but she commands just as much attention as you,” he said to Harry, almost wearily.  


* * *

 

Elle made her way through the crowded room towards where Hermione and Ron were sitting.  
  
“Hi,” she said, sliding into the chair next to Hermione.  
  
“Morning,” said Ron, looking at her a little oddly. “Happy birthday!”  
  
“Thanks. What’s up with the look?” Elle asked.  
  
“There’s something different about you.”  
  
Elle shrugged. She could play dumb.  
  
“Yeah,” said Hermione. “Now that you mention it, you do look different.”  
  
“Oh, um, well, there is this new hair stuff I’ve been trying,” said Elle vaguely, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth. Luckily, her hands had stopped glowing. She still couldn’t believe that she had magic hands now.  
  
As Hermione and Ron began talking, Elle sat there silently waiting for Harry to come back. She thought back to everything that Dumbledore had told her, trying to take it all in. As soon as she got back to Hogwarts, she was going to learn everything she could about wandless magic and American traditions.


	26. Back at Hogwarts

“Come on, Ron! You’d better hurry up or we’ll miss the train!”  
  
While Hermione anxiously shouted orders, Harry and Elle waited for Ron to get his school things together. He had unwisely ignored Hermione’s warning the day before and had failed to pack; therefore he was the cause for today’s holdup.  
  
“Keep your hair on, I’m almost ready!” Ron answered back hastily, stuffing the last article of clothing into his trunk and grabbing Pig’s cage from the top of the dresser.  
  
The four of them hurried downstairs, where the rest of their classmates were waiting to leave for King’s Cross. Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Moody were to accompany them in order to keep an eye on everybody as they all boarded the train. After saying goodbye to Fred, George, Cho, and the rest of the Order members, they set off for the station. On the way, everybody talked animatedly about going back to school.  
  
The only people who weren’t joining in on the conversation were Malfoy and Elle. Well, Malfoy hardly ever talked to anyone, but for Elle this was highly unusual. Harry ended his conversation with Seamus and Dean and ran to catch up with Elle, who was walking next to Hermione and Ginny, but only half listening to their conversation.  
  
“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside her.  
  
“Hi,” she said. They slowed down and let Hermione and Ginny go ahead of them, so that they could talk in private.  
  
“So,” said Harry quietly. “You still haven’t told anyone?”  
  
Elle knew at once what he was talking about. The new abilities she had received on her birthday.  
  
“Nope,” she replied.  
  
“Well, people are going to find out sooner or later. Especially Ron and Hermione.” He laughed softly. “You know you can’t hide anything from them.”  
  
Elle gave a small laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m going to try.”  
  
“Why won’t you tell them?” he asked, a little confused. “They’re our friends, they’ll understand.”  
  
She sighed. “I know they will Harry, but that’s not the point. I just need to keep this private for now, okay? I'm still trying to understand this whole thing myself.”  
  
“Sure,” Harry replied, looking at her oddly. “No problem. But just remember- your parents did this for a reason. A good one. You have no reason to feel ashamed or embarrassed.”  
  
Elle breathed a sigh of relief. She was afraid that Harry would make her tell Ron and Hermione, or at the very least, make her feel guilty for not telling them. In truth, she wasn’t exactly sure why she didn’t want them to know. She was just scared that if she told people, they would think she was bragging about having these brand new powers. But nothing could be farther from the truth. She didn’t need any more unwanted attention. Perhaps Harry was right.   
  
In fact, all of yesterday had been extremely weird. Objects levitated towards her, even when she thought of simple things like brushing her teeth or packing her trunk for school. The faint glow surrounding her hands flared whenever she felt particularly anxious, and Elle still felt a strange sort of energy pulsing through her veins.  
  
When they finally reached the train station, they all split into pairs and took turns going through the barrier. Once they were all through, they rushed to get on the train. Thankfully, nobody on the platform seemed to notice that the majority of the D.A. had all arrived together; everybody was too preoccupied with grabbing seats before the train embarked on its long journey back to Hogwarts.  
  
“Have a good term!” called Mrs. Weasley as she, Tonks, and Moody all waved goodbye.  
  
Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Elle made their way down the train to find a compartment. They found one at the very back and stowed their luggage as the train blew its whistle and slowly started to move.  
  
They sat in the compartment in silence for a while, gazing out the window and anticipating the arrival at Hogwarts for their very last year. Harry was feeling slightly nostalgic. He couldn’t believe that this was would be his final journey from platform 9 ¾. He could see Elle staring out the window and wondered what was going through her mind. This would only be her second year at Hogwarts, but would she still miss it as much as Harry would?  
  
After a couple of minutes of silence, Hermione shot Ron a very furtive look and said, “You know Ron, I’ve just remembered that the Head Boy and Girl get a compartment all to themselves.”  
  
It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Hermione had been named Head Girl, but it was a close call between Ron and Harry to see who would get Head Boy. Ron won the title in the end, but Harry couldn’t be happier for his friend. He felt as if he had outgrown the competition concerning Prefects and Head Boys, and personally didn’t mind if he was Head Boy or not; he didn’t really feel like having all that extra responsibility.  
  
The tips of Ron’s ears turned red. “Oh, really?” he said, his face lighting up.  
  
Hermione nodded. Ron shot up out of his seat and ran to the compartment door, but Hermione took her time getting up.  
  
“You don’t mind if we leave for a little bit, do you?” she asked.  
  
Harry and Elle exchanged looks. “Go ahead,” Elle said.  
  
Hermione gave her a grateful smile, and Harry gave Ron a thumbs up. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand, and they both left the compartment in a hurry. Harry could hear them talking and giggling all the way down the train.  
  
Harry glanced at Elle. “Well,” he said. “We’re alone.”  
  
She grinned mischievously. “It’s been a long time since we were alone,” she replied casually. "Grimmauld Place isn't exactly known for its privacy."   
  
“Neither is Hogwarts,” Harry agreed. “This may be our only chance for some time to ourselves.” He sighed contentedly and stretched his arms up over his head, then let them fall back down to his side. “So, what do you wanna do?”  
  
Without warning, Elle pounced on him and gave Harry a kiss. After about a minute of kissing, Elle pulled away and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, resting her other hand on his chest. Her legs were straddling his body.  
  
Harry gave her an innocent look. “Any other ideas?” he asked.  
  
Elle laughed, and they started kissing again, more aggressively than before. She threw off her denim jacket, and just as she leaned down to kiss him again, they both heard voices right outside their compartment. Quick as a flash, Elle pointed a finger at the compartment door. A green light flashed from her fingertip, sealing the compartment door shut.  
  
“Great way to put those new powers to use!” Harry said, grinning up at her.  
  
They resumed kissing, but a second later two annoying, female voices could be heard from outside, and a knock banged on their compartment door.  
  
“Is anybody in there?” came the unmistakable voice of Parvati Patil.  
  
Elle groaned and got off of Harry, retrieving her jacket from the floor. Harry sat upright in his seat, trying to regain his composure. They could hear the door trying to be opened from the outside, and Elle, with a sigh, slid the door open for Parvati and Lavender.  
  
“What are you two doing here?” asked Elle, giving them slightly dirty looks.  
  
“We could ask you the same question,” answered Lavender, smirking, eyeing their disheveled looks. “We aren’t intruding, are we?”   
  
Elle narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You are. What do you two want, anyway?”  
  
“There’s no room left in any of the other compartments,” Parvati whined, sitting down in the seat Elle had just vacated, next to Harry. Lavender followed.  
  
“I’m sure your boyfriends would be more than happy to share a compartment with you,” Elle said. She held the door open and gave them a sickeningly sweet smile. “So, leave us alone.”  
  
“There’s no need to be rude,” Parvati sniffed haughtily.

“Leave us alone, please,” Elle repeated, in a falsely sweet tone.   
  
“Seamus and Dean won’t stop talking about Quidditch,” sighed Lavender. “We just can’t stand to listen to them anymore. I mean, it gets old after a while.”  
  
Elle wanted to shout that she couldn’t stand to listen to them either, but settled for merely rolling her eyes. _Great._ Now they were going to have to put up with these two whiny girls for the whole journey. She looked at Harry, but he only shrugged helplessly.

With an agitated look on her face, Elle accepted defeat and sat opposite from Harry, keeping her arms crossed and gazing anywhere but at Lavender and Parvati.  
  


* * *

 

Harry shifted awkwardly in his seat. They had been on the train for over two hours, but it seemed like two years. Lavender and Parvati had mostly talked amongst themselves, but every now and then they would shoot Harry these seductive glances, and whenever they addressed him, it seemed more like they were trying to flirt with him. This had not gone unnoticed by Elle, who was growing angrier by the second. Her hands had started glowing again, and she sat on them before anyone else could notice.   
  
Finally, after Lavender had batted her eyelashes at Harry for about the eightieth time, Elle jumped up from her seat, startling all three of them.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” she announced stiffly.  
  
Harry shot her a pleading look.  
  
"Elle, I know you're not going to leave your, uh, bookbag here all by itself!" he exclaimed, even though he knew that didn't make sense.   
  
Elle felt guilty, but couldn’t stay there a minute longer.  
  
"I’m just going to the toilets," she replied, then slipped out the door before Harry could say another word.   
  
Slamming the doors forcefully behind her, Elle walked down the train, but then realized she had no idea where to go. The bathroom was occupied, and she didn’t really want to interrupt Ron and Hermione.  
  
Finally, she reached a compartment near the very front, and cautiously opened it. Inside, she found Ginny and Draco. They appeared to be in the middle of a deep discussion.  
  
“Oh, sorry,” Elle muttered, going to close the door. Now _she_ was the one intruding.   
  
“No, it’s okay,” Ginny said quickly. “Come in.”  
  
“Thanks,” Elle said, as Ginny moved over to make room for her.  
  
Draco gave her an arrogant glance. He was lying on top of his seat, which he had all to himself, with his arms folded neatly behind his head. He looked bored, almost as if he were about to fall asleep. Ginny was sitting up straight, but seemed aggravated.  
  
“I was just talking to Draco about what he plans to do after Hogwarts,” Ginny said, sounding a bit like Hermione. “But he doesn’t care about anything!”  
  
Draco yawned.

“I do care,” he said off-handedly. “But no one is going to want to hire a disgraced Malfoy. And I would follow in my family’s footsteps, but I don’t believe Death Eaters receive a good benefits package. I really want to make sure I have Dental.”   
  
Elle laughed. She didn’t know what to do after Hogwarts either, but she still had a whole year to think about it. She didn’t see the point in worrying now.  
  
As she sat there and listened to Ginny and Draco talk, she realized just how close they were. She remembered how angry everyone had been when they found out that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin had been talking for over a year, but she couldn’t see why anyone would be mad. Draco didn’t seem too bad, once you talked to him for a while. But then again Elle hadn’t really gotten a chance to know him; after all, the only time they had ever talked was that one late-night accidental meeting, and that hadn’t exactly been the greatest conversation in the world.  
  
As she continued to listen to the two of them, Elle also started to wonder if there was something going on between them other than friendship. Sometimes it seemed obvious, but other times it was kind of hard to tell.  
  
“So Elle, why aren’t you with Harry?” Ginny asked.  
  
Draco snorted in disgust. “Yes, do tell us…did you finally get tired of all his high and mighty, scar-faced nonsense?”  
  
Elle ignored him. “He’s sitting with Parvati and Lavender,” she replied moodily. “Those two decided to invade our compartment.”  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "So you just left him alone with them?" he asked dubiously. "That's either very trusting, or very cruel. Almost Slytherin-like, one would say."  
  
Elle shrugged. "Well," she said, giving both of them smiles. "It seems as though Gryffindors and Slytherins get along just fine, so maybe this is for the best." She raised her hands in mock triumph. "And the great divide between Hogwarts Houses is united at last!"  
  
Ginny laughed, and Draco gave a reluctant smirk, which Elle took as a good sign that maybe, despite his hatred of Harry, she was growing on him. Elle spent the remainder of the train ride with Draco and Ginny, and finally returned to the compartment just as the train was slowing down.  
  
Harry glared at her as she entered, probably angry at the fact that he had been left alone with Parvati and Lavender, who had at last decided to go back to Seamus and Dean once Elle had shown up.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Elle said hastily, throwing black robes over her regular clothes and dragging down her trunk. “But you know I can’t stand those two.”  
  
“I can’t stand them either!” Harry retorted. “Do you think I enjoy sitting here with them the whole time? Now they think we're fighting, since you never came back.”  
  
Elle was about to fire back in protest, but then Ron and Hermione returned, both of them dressed in their school robes, their Head Boy and Girl badges pinned to their chests. The train rolled to a stop at Hogsmeade station, and everybody scrambled to disembark at once. Harry and Elle followed Hermione and Ron off the train, refusing to speak or look at each other.  
  
The four of them found a carriage together, and Harry and Elle spent the ride up to the castle in silence. Ron and Hermione noticed the tension, but didn’t say anything. Once they got to the castle, Harry pushed past Elle and went through the double doors, leaving her to stumble out of the carriage and make her way to the Great Hall by herself.  
  
"Hey, watch it!" she shouted at him angrily. Then she realized it was the second time she had said those words to him after a ride on the Hogwarts Express. Was this how they were going to start a new school year, going back to hating each other?   
  
Harry knew he was acting immature, but once he entered the castle he breathed a sigh of contentment, momentarily forgetting his anger. He was finally home.  
  
The four of them sat down at the Gryffindor table and eagerly awaited the start of the feast. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Lupin were sitting in their spots at the teacher’s table. A long line of first years came through the doors and filed through the rows of tables to the front of the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat sang it’s welcoming song, and the hall burst into applause.  
  
“Okay, what’s going on?” Hermione asked, as McGonagall called forth the first student to be sorted. She was looking back and forth between Harry and Elle.  
  
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.  
  
“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat called out. Cheers rang out over by the Hufflepuff table as a little redheaded boy took the hat off his head and ran gleefully towards his new house.  
  
“Well, you two haven’t said a word to each other since we got off the train,” Hermione observed.  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron. “Did you two have a fight or something? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time.”  
  
“RAVENCLAW!” the hat shouted, and a little girl in pigtails walked daintily over to the Ravenclaw table.  
  
“No,” said Harry huffily, his anger slowly seeping back. “Elle just thought it would be nice if she could stick me alone with Lavender and Parvati for the entire train ride.”  
  
“It was not the whole train ride!” Elle cried out, the same time the sorting hat yelled “SLYTHERIN!” “Besides, I already said I was sorry,” she continued, figuring it was best not to mention that she had sat with Draco Malfoy.  
  
“Yeah, easy for you to say!” Harry yelled. “You weren’t the one who had to sit there listening to them the whole time!”  
  
“Shh, they’ll hear you!” Hermione said anxiously, even though Parvati and Lavender were sitting down at the far end of the table and were quite out of earshot.  
  
“Let them hear me!” Harry shouted grumpily, as the hat called out “GRYFFINDOR!” Everybody around them burst into applause.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re getting angry over this,” Elle said, exasperated.  
  
“You’d be angry too if you had to sit next to someone batting their eyelashes at you every five seconds!” Harry fired back, positively fuming. “Seriously, it looked like she had some sort of eye disease.”  
  
Elle burst out laughing, which took Harry, Ron, and Hermione by surprise. Then Ron started laughing too, followed closely by Hermione, and as Harry looked at them all, his temper finally subsided.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Elle said, after her laughter had died down. “It must have been really horrible.”  
  
“Forget it,” Harry said, calming down. “Just don’t let it happen again.”  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied.  
  
Ron and Hermione shook their heads in amazement at how fast the two of them fought and made up. The sorting ceremony ended soon after, and to everyone’s delight, the feast began without further delay. Elle noticed Ron reaching for the bowl of pudding and, pointing her finger, made the bowl zoom out of his reach, so that it settled right in front of her instead.  
  
“You’re really irritating, you know that?” Ron said, after Elle was done helping herself to some.  
  
Hermione sighed. “Some things never change,” she muttered.   
  


* * *

 

“Okay, so what do we have today?” Ron asked Hermione the next morning at breakfast. Hermione had taken all of their schedules and was busy pouring over them.  
  
“Today’s not so bad,” she said. “In the morning we have Care of Magical Creatures and Charms, but in the afternoon there’s Potions, and then you and Harry have Divination while Elle and I have Arithmancy.”  
  
Harry and Ron gave a collective groan. “Seeing Snape over the summer is bad enough,” grumbled Ron. “Now we have to see him on the very first day back? It’s just not fair.”  
  
“I know,” said Hermione, handing back their schedules. “But seeing as how it’s N.E.W.T year, we’re going to have to pay extra close attention, because knowing Snape he’s only going to make things more difficult for us.”  
  
After breakfast, they all left the Great Hall and headed down to Hagrid’s hut, where most of the Slytherins were already assembled for their double Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Elle caught Draco’s eye and he gave her a slight nod of recognition, but ignored Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Elle made sure none of them were looking, before giving Draco a friendly wave. Harry and Ron might hate Draco, but she didn’t, even if she did think he was a bit antisocial.  
  
Hagrid came out carrying a large box, which appeared to be quite heavy.  
  
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Ron, eyeing the box uneasily.  
  
“Mornin’!” said Hagrid brightly. “Today we’re goin to be studyin’ somethin’ that will most likely show up in yer N.E.W.T exam.”  
  
Hermione straightened up a little, focusing all her attention on Hagrid. Hagrid reached down into the box and pulled out a small, furry creature, which resembled something between a ferret and a raccoon.  
  
“These,” announced Hagrid. “Are called Gardencritters. Gardencritters can be found, as most of yeh have probably already guessed, in gardens. They eat traditional garden plants, an most people even get some as pets ter put in their own garden. They’re dead useful for scarin away gnomes, and other small reptiles such as toads, snails, an small snakes. But be careful; they have incredibly sharp teeth, so you best not be wantin to put any of yer hands near its mouth, unless you lot want ter leave here with one less finger then you came with.”  
  
The class all laughed, and the Slytherins snarled.

“I’ll let yeh work in groups of four,” Hagrid continued. “I want all of yeh ter take one of these Gardencritters an observe it; write down their descriptions an label the different body parts. I’ll be comin around in case any of yeh need help.”  
  
The whole class spread out into separate groups. Harry went up to the front and brought back one of the furry Gardencritters.  
  
“Not too bright these things, are they?” remarked Ron, after they all had sat down on the grass, and Harry had released the Gardencritter, which promptly ran straight into a nearby tree.  
  
“Maybe not, but they are rather cute,” said Hermione, scooping it up and cuddling it.  
  
“Yeah they’re adorable, right down to their teeth,” said Ron sarcastically as the Gardencritter yawned, revealing it’s gray, razor-sharp teeth.  
  
They spent the next hour and a half writing down accurate descriptions and labeling where the snout and claws were located. At the end of class, Hagrid collected the Gardencritters and let the students go, but not before telling them all to finish their assignment for homework. From there they went straight to Charms, where they were presented with a surprisingly difficult lesson and an extra-large amount of homework from Professor Flitwick.  
  
In the afternoon they sat through an almost unbearable Potions class, which resulted in them being assigned a 6-foot long essay describing the properties for a truth serum. After Potions, Hermione and Elle went off to Arithmancy, while Ron and Harry headed towards Divination. After what felt like forever, their last class of the day was finally over and they all met up again in the common room to drop off their things before heading down to dinner.  
  
“I can’t believe this!” Elle complained loudly, climbing through the portrait hole on the way to the Great Hall. “It’s only the first day and we’re already swamped with homework!”  
  
After a quick dinner, they headed back to the common room and situated themselves around the fire to start their homework; books, parchment, and quills littered the floor.  
  
“I swear, one of these days I’m going to kill Snape,” grumbled Ron.  
  
“Knowing Snape, he’d probably come back as a ghost and still fail us,” said Harry with a gloomy expression. He looked over at Elle and Hermione to see if they’d started on the essay yet, and to his surprise they both looked as if they were almost finished. The two of them looked exactly the same; both their heads were bent low over their parchment and the quills in their hands were scribbling like mad.  
  
“Hey,” said Ron in amazement. “How…”  
  
But before Ron could finish his question, Hermione reached the end of her essay and flung the finished product towards him.  
  
“Thanks,” said Ron, starting to copy down what Hermione had written. Elle finished hers a moment later and handed it to Harry, without him even asking. 

As Harry and Ron were busy copying, Hermione started on her Arithmancy homework. Elle was about to do the same, but couldn’t find her Arithmancy book anywhere.  
  
“Hey, have any of you seen an Arithmancy textbook?” asked Elle, upsetting a bottle of ink and rifling through abandoned parchment on the floor in search of it.  
  
The three of them looked up from their homework just in time to see a large book rise up from one of the far corners of the room and float over towards Elle. Elle was still gazing around on the floor, but when she saw them all staring, she whipped around, just in time to catch the book in her hands.  
  
“Oh right, now I remember where I left it,” she said hesitantly, sitting back down with the book in her hands, not meeting anyone’s eyes. She looked around to make sure no one else had noticed, but thankfully everyone in the common room was absorbed in their own conversations and homework.  
  
Ron and Hermione were staring at her with astonished expressions on their faces.  
  
“How did you that?” asked Ron.  
  
“Do what?” Elle asked.  
  
“How did you make that book float towards you without even looking at it?” Ron asked quickly.  
  
“Ron, you should know by now that I can do wandless magic,” she said, trying to sound exasperated, but really she was hoping that he would just drop it. She could feel her cheeks getting hot, and knew her hands would soon give her away.   
  
“Yes but even so, you still have to have eye contact in order to summon something,” said Hermione. “Elle, what’s going on with your hands?”   
  
“Um…” Elle looked towards Harry for help.  
  
“Nothing is wrong with them,” said Harry, trying to make this sound like it wasn’t anything at all worthy of questioning. “As long as she gets her homework done right?” he said hastily, glancing at Hermione.  
  
Ron seemed to be fine with this answer, but Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him and Elle.  
  
“Okay, what’s going on?” she demanded, the same way she had the previous evening.  
  
Harry and Elle glanced at each other. “Nothing,” they both said in unison.  
  
“You two are hiding something, I know you are!”  
  
“Why would we be hiding something?” Elle asked, trying to keep a blank face.  
  
“I don’t know!” said Hermione, sounding exasperated. “What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about on your birthday? Why do your hands keep glowing? And I saw a book on telepathy in your bookbag this morning…I want to know what’s happening.”   
  
Elle sighed. It was stupid to hide it any longer. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll tell you guys, but you have to promise to keep it a secret, okay?”  
  
Hermione and Ron nodded. For the next ten minutes, Elle and Harry explained in low voices what had happened on Elle’s birthday, and what Dumbledore had told them. When they were done, Hermione and Ron wore looks of surprise and awe.  
  
“Wow,” said Ron, impressed. “I never knew you could do that!”  
  
“Yeah, well, neither did I,” said Elle shrugging.  
  
“You know, I think I’ve read about this somewhere,” said Hermione. “It’s a really rare American tradition, not a lot of people do it anymore.”  
  
“So does this mean you don’t even need to use a wand?” Ron asked.  
  
“I guess,” Elle said. “But it also means I now get panic attacks. That’s why I kept waking up at night while we were at Grimmauld Place. I wasn’t exactly dreaming. I just get more affected by anxiety now.”

“Join the club,” Ron, Hermione, and Harry replied in unison, and Elle couldn’t help but laugh.   
  
“Well this is good though, isn’t it?” Ron said, looking around at them. “I don’t understand why it has to be some big secret.”  
  
“Oh Ron, don’t you see?” said Hermione. “Imagine if Voldemort found out.”  
  
Ron flinched. Elle’s stomach plummeted. She hadn’t even thought of that. She had mainly wanted to keep it a secret so that nobody would look at her funny.   
  
“What do you think Voldemort would do if he did find out?” Elle asked Hermione uneasily.  
  
Hermione shrugged. “Who knows?” she stated. “But just look at what he did when he found out that Harry could enter into his mind. He already knows how close the two of you are.”   
  
Harry stiffened a little as the memory of the night in the Department of Mysteries came flooding back, and the night of the attack when Elle was put under the Cruciatus Curse. He wished Hermione hadn’t said anything.  
  
They were all quiet for a moment. Elle had been told bits of the story of what had happened that night in the Ministry, and she was now looking at Hermione with wide eyes.   
  
“Well,” said Ron, breaking the silence. “I don’t think we should panic just yet. I mean, there’s no possible way that Voldemort can find out, is there?”  
  
Hermione shook her head. “None that I know of…”  
  
“I don’t think you should worry,” said Harry, with false bravado. “You’re not exactly Voldemort’s biggest target. That would be me.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron, agreeing with Harry. “No offense.”  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. “None taken, believe me. I guess being the girlfriend of Voldemort’s biggest target is just a minor inconvenience.” She gathered all her books and stood up, grabbing her schoolbag from a nearby chair. “Well, I’m off to bed,” she announced.  
  
“But what about your homework?” asked Hermione.  
  
“It’ll have to wait,” she sighed. “Goodnight.” She disappeared up the staircase to the girl’s dormitories, leaving the three of them alone.  
  
“Well,” said Ron, after she had left. “This year is certainly getting off to an interesting start.”  
  
“It definitely is,” said Hermione, peering in another direction.   
  
“What are you looking at?” Harry asked.  
  
“Nothing,” Hermione decided, after a while. “I thought I just saw the portrait hole swing open, but I couldn’t see anybody leaving or coming in.”  
  
She shrugged, and after a minute of gazing at the portrait hole, they all got back to work.  
  


* * *

 

Damien pushed back the hood of his invisibility cloak as he stepped outside, letting the cool night air wash over his face. It had not been easy getting into the Gryffindor common room. There were so many people around that it had been difficult to get in and out without being noticed. He had eventually managed to follow a boy through the portrait hole, and even then he was just in time to hear the last twenty minutes of the girl’s conversation. But it was more than enough.  
  
He grinned as he set off towards the village of Hogsmeade, folding up the invisibility cloak. His master would be very pleased with this new information, and he was sure to be rewarded. He had told his fiancée that he would be away on work. But he wouldn’t have to lie for long. They still needed Cameron for information, but as soon as she proved she was no longer valuable, he would be forced to do away with her.  
  
As he reached Hogsmeade, he prepared to apparate to the village near his master’s hideout. Nobody could apparate to the mansion directly; the only way to get there was to cross the ocean surrounding it.  
  
He took a deep breath, and in an instant, had disappeared.  
  


* * *

 

“Hey guys,” Elle said brightly the next morning, coming down the stairs and into the common room where Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been waiting for her.  
  
“You seem perky this morning,” said Ron, as they set off for breakfast.  
  
“Yeah, well I’ve been thinking…”  
  
“Always a dangerous thing,” said Harry. Elle shoved him in the ribs.  
  
“I’ve been thinking over this whole wandless magic thing, and I’ve decided not to let it bother me,” she said. “I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway, and my parents obviously wanted it to be a good thing, so I might as well enjoy it and learn to deal with it the best I can, right?”  
  
“That’s the spirit,” said Ron, yawning. They got to the Gryffindor table and sat down.  
  
“Hey,” said Ron, a thought dawning over him. “Elle, do you think you could do something useful with your new powers and turn this…” (He pushed a goblet of pumpkin juice towards her) “…Into firewhisky for me?”  
  
“Ron!” exclaimed Hermione.  
  
“Yeah,” said Harry, brightening up. “Could you?”  
  
“Of course she can’t!” proclaimed Hermione. “And even if she could, Ron you know that’s…”  
  
But she was cut off when Elle raised her finger to the goblet and closed her eyes. A second later, green light shot from her fingertip towards the goblet. She opened her eyes, and Ron and Harry leaned over to inspect. Ron sniffed the glass and broke into a grin.  
  
“It worked!” he announced.  
  
“Really?” Elle asked, pleased.  
  
“Ron, Harry, you’re not going to drink that are you?” Hermione threatened, narrowing her eyes.  
  
“Why not?” they said together, shrugging.  
  
“Ron, you are Head Boy!” Hermione practically shouted. "Besides, it's the morning! We have to pay attention in our classes today, you could be expelled..."  
  
“Please Hermione, just one little taste?” pleaded Ron. “I’ve never even tried it before!”  
  
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, defeated. “Oh fine,” she huffed. “One taste, that’s it.”  
  
Ron lifted the goblet to his mouth and took a long, slow sip. He passed it to Harry, who also took a drink. Hermione was watching them closely.  
  
“Satisfied?” she asked when they were done, her eyebrows raised.  
  
Ron nodded, smacking his lips. “That was definitely worth it,” he stated. He turned to Hermione. “Please Hermione, can I just have one more…” 

“Elle, get rid of it,” Hermione hissed dangerously.   
  
“Evanesco,” said Elle, staring at the goblet. The firewhisky vanished.  
  
“Hey!” cried Ron in protest.  
  
“Oh come on Ron, did you really want to go to class drunk?” giggled Elle. “Besides, I had to get rid of it before somebody smelled it and we all got in trouble.”  
  
The bell rang signaling the start of classes, and they all got up to go their first class of the day, Transfiguration. They entered the classroom and got ready for what they expected to be a difficult lesson. But it turned out to be quite boring; Professor McGonagall spent the whole time lecturing them on the importance of N.E.W.T.s and how much the exams were going to affect their later careers. Hermione was the only one who paid full attention, and who copied at least ten whole pages of notes.  
  
Harry sighed and glanced at his watch. Thankfully, they only had a few minutes left, and then they were off to Herbology. His mind started to wander about what he was going to have for lunch that day, when…  
  
“Ah-choo!” Elle sneezed, startling Harry and just about everyone else in the class.  
  
The whole back row of unoccupied desks crashed to the floor, creating a deafening noise. Everybody turned around to look at the desks, and then at Elle.  
  
Harry leaned over to her. “How did that happen?” he whispered.  
  
Elle shook her head, white-faced. “I have no clue,” she whispered back.  
  
McGonagall cleared her throat. “Reparo,” she said with a wave of her wand, and the desks flew back into place.  
  
The bell rang and everybody scrambled out of the class, shooting Elle odd looks. Elle got up and was about to leave with Harry when Professor McGonagall called out her name.  
  
“Miss Levine, may I have a word?” requested McGonagall, sitting down at her desk.  
  
“Sure,” Elle said.  
  
“I’ll wait outside,” Harry told her.  
  
“You may stay, Potter,” said McGonagall. “I would only like a short word with Elle.”  
  
“Professor, I’m really sorry about the desks,” Elle said, walking up to the front of the room. “I don’t know how it happened.”  
  
“I’m not worried about the desks,” said McGonagall. “I wanted to see you because it appears to me from your records that you have not received any Career Advice sessions in the past. Is that true?”  
  
Elle nodded.  
  
“Well,” said McGonagall, straightening up in her chair. “Seeing as how I’m your Head of House, I need to put on your record that you have had some sort of a Career Advice conference. So I wanted to ask you, do you have any idea of what you would like to do once you leave Hogwarts this year?”  
  
Elle bit her lip, trying to think. She hadn’t been expecting on having a Career Advice discussion today.  
  
“Um, I haven’t really thought about it,” she answered honestly, racking her brain for a suitable career. She thought back to something that Harry had told her a while back, and conversations she had had with Tonks over the summer. “I suppose it’d be fun to be an Auror.”  
  
McGonagall smiled a little. “Ambitious are we? Well, you’ll need top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. I hear you’re doing well in all the others, but your Transfiguration grade needs improving. Your work in Potions is satisfactory, but Professor Snape does mention that your careless attitude won’t be tolerated much longer.”

Elle nodded, concealing the sudden urge to roll her eyes.

“I suggest you work hard this year,” McGonagall continued. She gave her a smile. “Well, you’re free to go then. Have a good afternoon.”  
  
“Thank you Professor,” said Elle, and she and Harry left the Transfiguration room.  
  
“I think Hermione and Ron are already at the Greenhouses,” said Harry, heading towards that direction. “So, do you really want to become an Auror?”  
  
“I do,” said Elle thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, it seems like a really cool job.” She grinned up at him. “If we both become Aurors, it’ll be me and you, saving the world from evil every day. Just like an action movie.”  
  
Harry laughed and took her hand. “It’s going to be really dangerous,” he said. “This is real life, not a movie. I hope you’re up for it.”  
  
Elle sighed whimsically, and thought back to the discussion last night about Voldemort and her new powers.  
  
“Life is already dangerous,” she said, flexing her fingers. "We may as well keeping learning how to defend ourselves, and how to protect others.”   
  
Harry squeezed her hands. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor," he replied proudly. "Come on, Captain America, let's go to Herbology."  
  
"So you DO know about muggle comic books!" Elle exclaimed gleefully, running after him. 


	27. Anticipation

The first month of classes flew by so fast that it felt like someone had put it in fast-forward. Their classes were tougher than they had ever been, and it seemed like their Professors had been waiting until their Seventh Year just to bombard them with as much homework as they could possibly give.  
  
When Quidditch season started, life got even more hectic for Harry, Ron, and Elle. Even though they only practiced one night a week, it made getting their homework done a lot harder, and Hermione eventually took pity on them and offered to help with their homework on the nights that they had Quidditch, which made them feel immensely grateful toward her.  
  
Elle was still getting used to her new powers. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know, but it was becoming harder to keep it a secret. Everybody always wanted to know how she made things levitate towards her, and why, whenever she coughed or sneezed, something smashed or fell over. One time, she had left for class and completely forgot her wand back in the dormitory. It was too late to go back and get it, so she had walked into Charms without her wand. By the time she came out everyone had wanted to know how she had practiced the Cheering Charm without a single wave of a wand. She had shrugged off their questions, not wanting to spark more conversations and attention. 

She was still having panic attacks at night, and often stayed up with Hermione for hours. Hermione would fold her arms around her friend, whispering “It’s okay, everything’s okay,” into the dark until Elle was able to go back to sleep. Elle begged her not to repeat these episodes to Harry, and Hermione kept her word. However, her hands still glowed whenever she felt embarrassed, or anxious, or particularly happy, and she took to wearing gloves in the corridors. This she couldn’t hide from Harry, but luckily, he seemed to understand.   
  
On top of all of this, Parvati and Lavender had taken to batting their eyelashes and giggling mercilessly whenever they were around Harry. Harry found this extremely annoying, and he knew Elle was disgusted by their behavior. Apparently, so were Seamus and Dean, because after a few weeks of this they had broken up with them. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elle all had a good laugh the next morning when the two girls showed up at the breakfast table with angry looks on their faces, but their laughter died down as Parvati and Lavender caught sight of Harry and wasted no time in smiling flirtatiously at him.  
  
“Hello?” said Elle, as she glared down the table at them, her hands glowing red with anger. “Can they not see that I’m sitting right here?”  
  
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’ve got a crush on you, Harry,” said Hermione, buttering her toast.  
  
“They don’t,” said Harry, not sounding sorry at all. “They’re just doing it for attention. What do they expect anyway, that I’ll ask out both of them and then alternate dates?”  
  
Seamus, Dean, and Neville came to sit down next to them, and Ginny also arrived soon after. Dean was now eyeing Ginny with interest and tried to catch her eye, but Ginny didn’t seem to be paying attention. In fact, she appeared quite preoccupied.  
  
A few minutes later, Parvati and Lavender got up and made their way over to where Harry and Elle were sitting. Elle groaned.   
  
“Hi Harry,” Lavender cooed. Parvati stood behind her with a sickly smile on her face.  
  
“Hi,” said Harry dully, without looking up.  
  
“Hello Elle,” said Lavender, turning to her. Elle didn’t respond. “Nice outfit,” she continued. “A little too revealing, don’t you think?”  
  
Parvati giggled. Elle looked herself up and down. Since it was Saturday, she had dressed in jeans and a tank top.  
  
“Thanks,” she said dryly. “I like your outfit too- did you borrow it from Neville’s grandmother?”  
  
Harry, Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean all laughed. Lavender and Parvati glared at her.  
  
“Nice perfume by the way,” Elle continued, without missing a beat. “But must you marinade in it? I can barely breathe.”  
  
This earned more laughter from the people surrounding her. Lavender’s face burned.  
  
“You know what?” she said. “Go ahead and display that nasty American wit. But I’d watch your back from now on if I were you.” She narrowed her eyes.  
  
Elle raised her eyebrows. That phrase sounded very familiar.  
  
“What are you going to do, help pour ice water on me again?” she asked carelessly, waving her hand. “Or tell me about a class costume party? Your pranks are getting lame, so why don’t you just run along?”  
  
Lavender and Parvati threw her one last dirty look, before sulking away from the table and out of the Great Hall. Their group burst into another fit of laughter as soon as they were gone.  
  
“Brilliant!” said Seamus, giving Elle a high five.  
  
“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” said Harry, grinning.  
  
“I am so glad I don’t have to put up with them anymore,” Dean remarked in relief.  
  
“Why don’t _they_ like me?” Elle asked. They all stared at her in amazement.  
  
“Since when have you ever cared if they liked you?” asked Ron.  
  
“I don’t know,” Elle shrugged. “I don’t like having enemies. And, it feels wrong sinking to their level all the time.”  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. “If you ask me, they got what they deserved.”  
  
There were murmurs of agreement, and after a while they all got up to leave. The eight of them were just walking through the doors when Dumbledore approached them from the teacher’s table.  
  
“Good morning,” he said. “May I have a word?”  
  
Dumbledore beckoned them into an empty classroom just outside of the Great Hall.  
  
“What is it, sir?” asked Seamus as soon as they were inside.  
  
“I wanted to inform you all that the next meeting for the Order will be held tonight, at midnight, in the Room of Requirement.”  
  
They nodded, and shared excited looks. Dumbledore smiled. “I’ll tell the others,” he said. He reached for the door and held it open, letting them all pass through. “See you tonight.”  
  


* * *

 

“Come in,” came a hiss within a dark chamber.  
  
Damien entered the dimly lit room and approached the armchair in front of the fire. Eerie shadows were cast around the room.  
  
Damien cleared his throat. “I have news, Master,” he said, bowing slightly. “About the girl.”  
  
“Already?” asked Voldemort, a satisfied gleam in his eye.  
  
“Yes,” he replied. “She has power now, more power than she knows she is capable of. It seems that when she turned seventeen, she found her parents had put a spell on her, enabling her to obtain full use of wandless magic.”  
  
Voldemort nodded slowly. “You’re certain?” he questioned.  
  
“Positive,” Damien confirmed.  
  
“Excellent,” Voldemort said slowly, a twisted smile forming on his face. He stood up, his black cloak skirting over the carpet. “Listen carefully,” he said, pacing the room. “The girl’s powers certainly have an advantage over ours,” he said. “But what if we could steal them?”  
  
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said Damien hesitantly.  
  
Voldemort was silent for a moment; the only sounds that filled the room were the echo of his footsteps. “There is a potion,” he stated after a moment. “A potion so mutinous that it is known to very few. Not even Dumbledore knows of it.”  
  
“What does it do?” asked Damien.  
  
“With the proper ingredients, along with the girl’s blood, we could obtain her powers with a single sip. It is extremely strong, but incredibly useful.”  
  
“And all of us would drink it?” Damien inquired. “To brew a potion that large could take months, even years.”  
  
“We have time,” replied Voldemort. “This potion could make us far more powerful than we already are.” He turned to face Damien. “Go back to the girl’s cousin. It will take a while before we claim all the needed ingredients. We shall acquire the girl’s blood last.”  
  
Damien bowed his head. “And what about the cousin?” he asked. “What am I to do with her? She is already getting suspicious.”  
  
“Do nothing,” Voldemort hissed. “Not yet.”  
  
“As you wish, Master,” said Damien.  
  
He bowed once more, turned on his heel, and left the room.  
  


* * *

 

“Come on Elle, we’re going to be late!” hissed Harry, trying not to make too much noise.  
  
It seemed to take ages till everyone had gone to sleep, but finally the only people left in the common room were the ones who were in the Order. Elle had run upstairs to grab her wand, but she had already been up there for five minutes.  
  
“I don’t know where it is!” she called back, scurrying about frantically.  
  
“Well, if you would take your wand to class like you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t lose it,” Harry said exasperatedly.  
  
“I didn’t lose it, I just can’t find it!” she replied. Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
“We better get going,” said Ginny, checking her watch. “Everyone else is probably there already.”  
  
As they all got up and left through the portrait hole, Harry sighed, looking up from the foot of the girl’s staircase.  
  
“Will you please hurry up?” he almost shouted, forgetting that there were people in the dormitory still sleeping.  
  
Elle flung herself down on the floor in her dormitory and crawled on her hands and knees to look under the bed. “Oh this is stupid,” she said, standing up, and raising her hands in front of her as if she were about to push them against the wall. She closed her eyes.

“Accio wand!” she called triumphantly. Her wand flew over to her from somewhere on top of the dresser.  
  
“Now I remember where I left it,” she whispered, grabbing it and running down the stairs. “All ready,” she said, smiling at Harry.  
  
“About time,” he said. “Come on, everyone’s already left.”  
  
“Relax,” she said, laughing as they scurried through the portrait hole.  
  
“I don’t even see why you need your wand,” said Harry, now walking along the corridor. “What’s the point of being able to do wandless magic?”  
  
Elle shrugged. He dropped the subject as they caught up with Ron and Hermione. The rest of them walked hurriedly and silently until they reached the Room of Requirement and entered. Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, and Snape were there, as well as the rest of the Order members. After they were all inside, Dumbledore came forward.  
  
“Welcome,” he said, nodding to all who had just entered. “Now that we are all here, we can get down to business.”  
  
He walked towards the back of the room where a large, golden crate was placed. With Lupin’s help, they carried it out to the center of the room and laid it down. Dumbledore motioned for everyone to move back. With a flick of his wand, the crate flew open, and about fifty shimmering swords flew out of it, forming three long lines and stopping to hover in midair a couple of feet from the ground. Their blades were razor-sharp, glinting and gleaming. Their handles were made out of solid gold, and were encrusted with jewels. Each blade was a different shape and color; no two swords were alike.  
  
The students all gasped in amazement, staring at them. Dumbledore came forward once again and turned to speak.  
  
“These swords are among the most powerful weapons the Ministry has ever developed,” he said seriously. “They will take tremendous practice to learn how to use, but once mastered, they can kill with a flick of a wrist. They will be an enormous help in defeating Voldemort. All of the Aurors at the Ministry of Magic will be using these as well. It is extremely important that you all learn how to fight with these swords as quickly and efficiently as possible.”  
  
He smiled a little. “These swords, much like wands, choose their owner. They are all equally powerful, but there are five swords that have unique powers of their own.” He eyed them all to make sure they understood, and then cleared his throat.  
  
“On the count of three, I want you all to say ‘Accio Sword’.”  
  
They nodded, and Dumbledore moved out of the way. “On my count,” he said. “One, two, three!”  
  
“Accio Sword!” everyone cried out.  
  
At once, each of the swords flew to a different student, and all of them dropped their wands in their haste to catch one. After they all held one and were examining them, Dumbledore surveyed the room.  
  
“Right,” he said softly after a moment. “Now will Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Levine, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Potter come forward please?” he asked politely, nodding at the five of them.  
  
“Surprise, surprise,” Lavender muttered to Parvati in distaste.  
  
“You mean we got the five special swords?” asked Ron excitedly. Dumbledore smiled gently.  
  
“They are no more special than any of the others, Mister Weasley,” he said. “Just different.” He took hold of Ron’s sword and held it out for everyone to see.  
  
“Now this one,” he announced, holding up the slivery, gray sword, “Is called the Shadow Sword. When in use, it is invisible to all enemies. No opponents will be able to see it, and will therefore be unable to defend themselves.”  
  
“Wicked,” Ron said, taking it back from Dumbledore and looking at it fondly.  
  
Dumbledore then turned to Hermione and held hers up.  
  
“This sword is called the Eagle Blade,” he announced, admiring its bronze shade. “And it is the sharpest one of them all.” He gave it back to her. “I know you will be especially careful when using it,” he added to her in warning. Hermione nodded importantly.  
  
“The Dragon Sword,” he said, taking Draco’s. “This one is especially mutinous, because the blade is poisonous, and it will kill whomever it makes contact with slowly and painfully.”  
  
Some of the students shuddered.  
  
“What does this one do?” asked Elle, somewhat excitedly, giving Dumbledore the sword she was carrying. Harry noticed that it was very tiny, for a sword.  
  
“Ah yes, the Goddess Dagger,” he said, smiling a little. He handed it back to Elle. “It does absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, other than the fact that it is the smallest and the easiest to use.”  
  
“Oh,” said Elle taking it back, her face falling a little. Lavender and Parvati nudged each other and giggled.  
  
“And last, but not least, the Flame,” Dumbledore concluded, gesturing to Harry’s sword.  
  
All eyes swiveled in his direction, and Harry held it up so he too could get a better look.  
  
“The Flame has the rare power of emitting fire when fighting against an enemy. It is the most dangerous, and the hardest to master.”  
  
 _Fantastic_ , Harry thought.  
  
Ginny raised her hand, and Dumbledore nodded at her.  
  
“So, Voldemort’s army will be fighting with these same swords too?” she asked.  
  
“Voldemort’s army will have many weapons,” Dumbledore answered. “And we need to be prepared for the worst.”  
  
He left it at that, and looked behind him. Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Snape stepped forward. Harry and everyone else stood together, waiting for further instruction now that Dumbledore was done pointing out the five swords.  
  
“I would like everyone to find a partner,” said Lupin.  
  
Everyone in the room scrambled around to pair up with someone. Harry and Ron decided to be partners, as did Hermione and Elle. Ginny paired up with Draco. Neville was left alone, so Lupin let him be his partner. Neville walked up to the front and faced Lupin, looking a little nervous.  
  
“Remember,” spoke Dumbledore from Lupin’s left. “We are only practicing to fight, not to kill. Tonight is only for learning the basics, and we need to be extremely careful. I don’t want anyone getting hurt, is that understood?”  
  
They all nodded seriously as Dumbledore eyed each of them.  
  
“Okay,” said Lupin. “Let’s begin.”  
  


* * *

 

The teachers all split up into partners as well, demonstrating the proper way on how to swordfight. After showing them the right way to position the blade, along with the right footwork involved, they let the students try practicing against each other for the first time. With a deep breath everyone faced their partners, awkwardly holding the swords the way they had been told, and began to fight.  
  
Needless to say, their sword fighting tactics weren’t even close to perfection.  
  
Neville kept dropping his sword, which made an echoing clank every time it hit the floor and kept causing everyone to lose their concentration, so that most of the time they had to start all over again. Parvati and Lavender kept holding their swords the wrong way, so one of the teachers always had to go over to them and help fix their mistake. When the two girls finally did get it right, they ended up fighting with their swords held far away from their faces, as if they were afraid of them.

Harry and Ron were so eager to be the best ones, that Harry accidentally thrust his sword forward too fast, causing it to shoot out flames that narrowly missed setting Ron’s hair on fire. Ron, in turn, retaliated against Harry too quickly, and his invisible sword nearly slashed through Harry’s robes.   
  
Elle was also having a hard time with her sword, even though it was very small compared to the others. She just couldn’t seem to keep it steady, and she was always pointing it in the wrong direction. Hermione seemed to be doing well; as always, she caught on rather quickly and moved her sword around swiftly and cunningly just like they were taught, sliding it against Elle’s blade with an impressive gesture and just enough force. Draco and Ginny were performing admirably; along with Hermione, the three of them looked like naturals, which the teachers were quick to point out. However, they were still far from perfect.  
  
After about an hour, they stopped practicing and Dumbledore collected their swords, locking them away again in the crate with a wave of his wand. He assured the somewhat discouraged bunch that he didn’t expect them to be superb sword fighters on their first day of practicing. The meeting was adjourned and they all headed back to their separate common rooms.  
  
The Gryffindors decided to stay up a little while longer to talk, and so they positioned themselves in the armchairs surrounding the fire instead of going up to bed.  
  
“So,” said Dean. “What do you reckon?”  
  
“I dunno,” said Harry. “It’s hard to imagine actually fighting Voldemort’s army with those things.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Elle, slipping off her shoes and leaning back in her armchair. She stretched out her feet and laid them on top of Harry’s legs. “But I still think it’s cool. I mean it’s like we’re back in medieval times or something.”  
  
“I don’t see why you think it’s so cool,” said Lavender. “You could barely move that tiny thing around, much less fight with it.”  
  
“As opposed to someone who was afraid of even holding it?” Elle replied, laughing. “Okay, sure.”  
  
Lavender turned red. “Laugh now,” she said threateningly. “But when it comes time to fight and you’re the only pathetic one lying there waiting for someone to rescue her, then we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”  
  
Elle’s face became stormy. She lifted her legs off of Harry and shot up in her seat. “I’m going to bed,” she announced dramatically.  
  
She was halfway to the girl’s staircase before she turned around and walked back to where Harry was sitting. Draping her arms around him, she gave him a long, passionate goodnight kiss. Parvati and Lavender looked at her in disgust. After she let go of Harry, Elle twirled around and headed back to the stairs, throwing Parvati and Lavender one last satisfied smirk before disappearing.  
  
“I’m going to bed too,” said Hermione, grinning a little and getting up to follow Elle.  
  
Ron looked up at her hopefully and puckered his lips, but Hermione only stepped over his feet and a moment later, she too had disappeared.  
  
One by one, everyone got up and went to bed as well. Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville went into the dormitory together and talked as they changed into their pajamas.  
  
“I’ll tell you Harry, Elle is really something,” remarked Dean as he got into bed. “She sure does like attention, doesn’t she?”  
  
“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” said Harry tiredly, taking off his glasses and laying them on the bedside table. “I can tell she’s uncomfortable with it sometimes.” That was one thing him and Elle both had in common, besides being orphans- they both had to deal with constant whispers and stares. He would always be quick to defend her on that point.   
  
“You two are really lucky, you know,” said Seamus to Harry and Ron. “Hermione and Elle are awesome.”  
  
“Yeah,” piped up Dean again. “Not to mention two of the hottest girls in school.”  
  
Harry and Ron grinned. It was silent for a moment until Dean spoke from the bed next to Seamus, asking “Hey, speaking of hot girls, do you think Ginny would go out with me again if I asked her?”  
  
“No way!” said Ron, turning over on his side and closing his eyes. “She’s my sister! Don’t even think about it!”  
  
“Oh yeah, I forgot,” said Dean slowly. “She’s too involved with Malfoy.”  
  
Ron scowled, but didn’t say anything. Harry glanced at him quickly. Could it be possible that Ginny would really fall for Malfoy? Just the thought of it was too weird.  
  


* * *

 

After the Order meeting, the weekend practically raced by, as did the week after that. Nobody knew when their next sword-fighting lesson would be, but they hoped it would be soon. Harry was especially eager; he couldn’t explain it, but just holding his sword gave him a feeling of indescribable power. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt this way; over the next couple of days he could see many of the D.A. members go up to Dumbledore and ask when the next meeting would be, but Dumbledore was never able to give them a straight answer.  
  
Two weeks later, they still hadn’t had another meeting and the students were starting to get restless. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elle walked into the Great Hall one morning, they instinctively looked up at Dumbledore to see if he would come over and give them news on any upcoming meetings, but Dumbledore was in the middle of a discussion with McGonagall and didn’t even glance down.  
  
“Why won’t Dumbledore tell us when the next meeting is?” grumbled Ron as they sat down. “It’s not like we have much time.”  
  
“You don’t know how much time we have,” scolded Hermione. “Just relax, will you? Dumbledore knows what he’s doing.”  
  
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Ron replied, aggravated.  
  
There was the sound of fluttering wings, and a second later hundreds of owls swooped through the open windows and into the Great Hall. Harry looked up, but Hedwig wasn’t among them. He was accustomed to forgetting about the mail as soon as he checked for Hedwig, but today was different. They all watched as a dark, chocolate brown owl with amber eyes swooped down and landed on their table, carrying a letter in its beak. Harry had never seen this owl before, but Elle seemed to recognize it instantly.  
  
“Jewel!” Elle exclaimed with wide eyes, as the owl spotted her and flew onto her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”  
  
The owl dropped the letter in front of her, and Elle stroked its soft feathers. “It’s so good to see you,” Elle cooed. The owl nibbled her ear gently before taking off in a hurry, and Elle began to rip open the letter.  
  
“Who’s owl was that?” asked Harry.  
  
“Jewel is my friend Ally’s owl,” Elle explained. “I haven’t seen her in ages. It's not usual to see owls out in the open in California, so it's hard for her to communicate with me this way. She usually keeps Jewel hidden- this must be important.”  
  
She fell silent to read the letter, which was written on some sort of pink stationary. Her eyes widened as she scanned the bottom of the letter, and she let out a loud shriek.  
  
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed in happiness, almost dropping the letter into her cereal.  
  
Ron covered his ears. “Do you think you could at least warn me before shouting in my bloody ear?”  
  
“Sorry,” said Elle quickly. “But guess what?”  
  
“What?” asked Harry, Ron, and Hermione in unison.  
  
“You know how I told you about my two friends back in California?”  
  
They nodded. Elle rambled on.  
  
“Well, they wrote me a letter saying how they really miss me, and my friend Ally wants me to come down and stay with her during the holiday break. And she’s inviting you guys too! I told her all about you three, and she said that she’d be more than happy if you all wanted to come and stay at her place. She lives in this huge mansion, it’s really nice. And just think, it would be so much fun if we all could just go on a little vacation and forget everything that’s going on here, wouldn’t it?”  
  
She looked up at them cheerfully. “So, what do you guys think? Will you come?”  
  
The three of them were speechless. Harry thought about this for a minute; he guessed it would be kind of fun to get away from it all for a few days, and it might be interesting to be someplace new. Besides, what was here for him that would be worth staying for during holiday break, especially if they weren't going to swordfight? The answer was clear.  
  
“I’m in,” said Harry, grinning at Elle’s eager expression and her infectious enthusiasm. Her face lit up.  
  
“Really?” she exclaimed. “That’s so great!” She looked towards Hermione and Ron. “What about you two?”  
  
Ron shrugged. “Sure, why not?” he said. “It’ll be more fun than staying here anyway.”  
  
“Awesome!” Elle said gleefully. Now she faced Hermione. “Come on Hermione, it’s up to you now.”  
  
A look of hesitation passed over Hermione’s face, which Elle caught.  
  
“Please Hermione!” she said, reaching out and grabbing Hermione’s arm. “It won’t be the same without you! You have to come!”  
  
Hermione sat in silence for a moment. “Will we be there long?” she asked after a few seconds. “I had N.E.W.T. study plans drawn up for us to do.”   
  
Elle shook her head. “Nah, we’ll probably be back by Christmas. Its only for a couple of days.”  
  
Hermione chewed thoughtfully on her lip. “And you’re sure that it’s okay with your friend?” she asked.  
  
Elle nodded. “Absolutely.” She gave Hermione a pleading look. “Pleeeeease come Hermione?”  
  
Hermione sighed and pretended to be exasperated, but she was smiling. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”  
  
Elle squealed really loud. She got up, ran over to Hermione, and gave her a hug.  
  
“This is going to be so great!” she announced. “I’ll meet you all in class, I’m going to use Hedwig to let Ally know that we’re all coming, okay? See you later!”  
  
She gave one last squeal and dashed out of the Great Hall. Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows at Hermione. She shrugged.  
  
"It's just as well," she said, taking a sip of coffee. "My parents wanted to take me skiing again. There's no way I'm doing that." 

Harry grinned. “It will be fun to finally learn more about where Elle came from,” he said, reaching for more bacon.

Hermione put down her mug. “You still haven’t told Elle about the prophecy, have you Harry?” she asked seriously.

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and looked at Harry, wide-eyed.

“What the hell are you waiting for, mate?” he asked incredulously. “She’s your girlfriend!”

Harry felt uneasy. “I know,” he said quietly. “She has no idea why people call me The Chosen One, she thinks it’s just another nickname, like the Boy Who Lived…” He faltered at the looks on Ron’s and Hermione’s faces, and felt extremely guilty.

“Look, it just never seemed like the right time, okay?” he said defensively. “But I’ll tell her, I promise!”

Hermione looked at him sternly. “You’d better, or else it’s going to get ugly,” she said darkly, taking another sip of coffee.   
  


* * *

 

“So, what are you thinking about?” asked Harry later that night.  
  
He and Elle had decided to take a quick nighttime stroll through the corridors, just to have some time alone. They had been talking back and forth, but Elle had just recently fallen silent.  
  
Elle squeezed her fingers into Harry’s hand and laid her head on his shoulder as they walked. “Nothing,” she said truthfully. “I’m done thinking.”  
  
“So am I,” said Harry. They stopped outside the portrait of the fat lady and stepped inside the common room. It was deserted. They both walked over to the fire and sat down.  
  
“I can’t wait until Christmas vacation,” Elle said, staring into the fire. “There’s just too much stuff going on here.” She sighed. “I mean, first it was the new powers thing, and now it’s learning how to swordfight, and if you add both those things to the fear of Voldemort being back then you just have a whole, big, stressful mess.”  
  
“Don’t forget,” said Harry. “We still have our N.E.W.T.s to study for. And to top it all off, we have apparating classes starting immediately after the winter holidays.”  
  
Elle groaned. “This trip is the only thing that’s keeping me sane,” she said. “That, and moments like these.” She moved her glance from the fire and gazed into his eyes. “Do you think it’s possible to love only one person for the rest of your life?” she asked unexpectedly.  
  
Harry frowned. “Please elaborate.”  
  
Elle sighed. “I never used to think that,” she confessed. "I mean, my parents were in love, but Ally's parents never got along, and my uncle has had a few affairs. I always used to think relationships were hard, and messy."  
  
Harry mindlessly played with her hair, tucking it behind her ears. “And what do you think now?” he asked softly.  
  
“I think I could spend forever like this,” she whispered. "With you, it's easy."  
  
Harry realized how serious she was, and his heart thumped. Would she still think being with him was easy, when she learned about the prophecy?

“Me too,” he whispered back, ignoring the sudden resurgence of guilt. "I could spend forever with you, Elle."   
  
He kissed her then, and they stayed like that for a long time. They were living in the moment and appreciating their youthful freedom and innocence while they still had the chance. But even during their carefree moment, there was a little voice speaking out from the back of both of their minds…  
  
 _Forever is not as long as you think._  
  



	28. An Unforgettable Vacation

“How long until vacation?” Elle groaned as they all stepped out of their Transfiguration class, where they had just received another lecture on the importance of their upcoming N.E.W.T.s. They were all pretty sick and tired of hearing about them.  
  
“Let’s see, about six weeks,” Hermione answered distractedly, trying to stuff all her books back into her bag as they were walking.  
  
Elle sighed. The pressure was building on all of them so much that people were starting to crack. Seventh Years were heading to the hospital wing left and right, and their exams weren’t even until June! Halloween had passed a few weeks ago, and the Gryffindors had won their first Quidditch match of the season against Slytherin. But Quidditch was the last thing on their minds. They still hadn’t had another Order meeting, but they had been informed earlier in the week that the next meeting was to be held before school let out for the holidays. None of them could wait to practice sword fighting again.  
  
“Damn!” Hermione cried as her bag suddenly split in two, and all her books and quills fell tumbling to the floor.  
  
The three stared at her in surprise; none of them had heard her curse out loud before. Obviously, the pressure was getting to her.   
  
“Reparo,” Elle said quietly with a wave of her hand, and Hermione’s bag went back to normal.  
  
“Thanks,” said Hermione gratefully, swinging the bag back on to her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been really frustrated. I mean, the exams are less than six months away and I feel like I haven’t studied at all! I’m going to fail, I know it!”  
  
“Relax Hermione, it’ll be okay,” said Elle soothingly. “If anybody can pass with flying colors, it’ll be you, I know it.” She sighed. “Now me on the other hand…I don’t know. I haven’t been preparing as hard as I should be. I bet I’ll fail.”  
  
“Can we please not talk about those bloody exams for just one minute!” complained Ron. “I’m getting a headache just listening to the two of you!”  
  
Harry let out a deep breath. “Come on you guys,” he said wearily. “It’s time for Herbology.”  
  
They all let out a collective groan before heading towards the castle doors and outside to where the greenhouses stood. After yet another long and taxing lesson, and an equally exhausting dinner, they were finally done for the day and retreated to their common room to relax a bit and talk about their upcoming vacation.  
  
“So how exactly are we going to get to California?” asked Harry, as they all settled down in their usual chairs in front of the fireplace.  
  
Elle frowned and bit her lip. “We’ll just have to get there the muggle way,” she said, shrugging.  
  
Ron snapped his head up. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “What muggle way?”  
  
“Ron, I think she means we’ll have to take an airplane,” Hermione said tentatively, looking at Ron to see what his reaction would be. Elle looked at him and nodded too, still biting her lip.  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes. “What’s an airplane?” he asked.  
  
Hermione sighed and explained to him what an airplane was. Ron’s eyes widened.  
  
“No way!” he exclaimed in outrage. “Fly in something that high up in the air that’s not even powered by magic? I don’t think so! Why can’t we just go by broom or Floo Powder or something?” he asked desperately.  
  
“I’m sorry Ron,” said Elle hesitantly. “But it’s too far to go by broom, and my friend Ally doesn’t have a fireplace.”  
  
“Well, forget it!” said Ron, crossing his arms indignantly over his chest. “I’m not doing it!”  
  
“Come on Ron, it’s really not that bad!” Elle said pleadingly. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”  
  
“I don’t care,” he replied stubbornly. “I’m not going.”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly Ron, will you stop being so immature? I’ve flown in an airplane several times before, and it’s really an okay way to travel.”

Ron didn’t budge. Hermione softly touched his arm.  
  
“Please?” she said softly. “For me?”  
  
Ron sighed grumpily. “I guess…” he said moodily after a couple of minutes, trailing off uncertainly.  
  
“Great!” exclaimed Elle brightly. “So we’re all still going then. Ally said she’d mail over the plane tickets within the next couple of weeks, so we’re all set.”  
  
“Fantastic,” Ron muttered darkly.  
  
“Oh, come on,” said Hermione, grabbing her school bag from off the floor. “Let’s get started on our homework shall we? We’ve still got over a month before vacation, and we don’t want to fall behind.”  
  
The three of them shot her an exasperated look, but relented as she glared back.  
  


* * *

 

Week after week, everything stayed the same. Classes, homework, and even Quidditch; they were all becoming just one big blur. Once again, Harry found himself counting the days until they were let off, just like last year. He needn’t have worried though; before they knew it, it was the last week before the holidays and they were all set to go on vacation. Elle’s friend had owled her four plane tickets, and they planned to take a cab from King’s Cross station to the airport as soon as they got off the train. Ron was still a little hesitant about flying, but with help from Hermione, he still agreed to go.  
  
The only thing left for them to look forward to besides vacation was their next Order meeting. It was all any of them had been thinking about, and finally the night before winter break arrived. They all quietly crept out of their dormitories at midnight, just like the last time, and made their way to the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore and the rest were already there, as usual.  
  
They all waited as Dumbledore once again brought out the crate that held the swords, and opened it. Just as they had before, the swords flew out and formed three lines, hovering in midair, glinting and gleaming in intimidating radiance. Dumbledore nodded to them, and shouts of “Accio Sword!” rang out across the room.  
  
Harry felt a warm sensation shoot through his arm as he gripped his sword, the Flame. It was as if the sword was just as eager as he was to begin fighting again. Elle looked down at her own small sword a little grumpily as Parvati and Lavender pointed and snickered at her. They paired up with their partners, got into the proper formation, and on Dumbledore’s count, they began to swordfight.  
  
Even though they still weren’t entirely perfect, they were a little better than last time. They all seemed to have more confidence as they moved their swords around in the correct positions, and they seemed to have a better idea of what they were doing. Lavender and Parvati seemed to get over their fear of the blades, and Neville only dropped his sword twice. Hermione, Draco, and Ginny were quickly becoming experts, and Ron seemed to be getting the hang of his Shadow Sword, which kept turning invisible.  
  
The only person who was having any real trouble with her sword was Elle; no matter what she did or how many times Lupin came over to help her, she still couldn’t seem to do it right. She always ended up holding it the wrong way, or making the wrong move, and she didn’t seem to be getting any better. After Lupin tried to help her for the eighth time in a row, she became so frustrated that she threw her sword down on the floor in discouragement.  
  
“All right, I believe that is enough for tonight,” announced Dumbledore, clapping his hands to get their attention. “You all did very well, and for those who need improvement…” he nodded towards Elle “…I daresay that you will get better in time.”

Elle crossed her arms. Her hands were glowing in obvious frustration, and she quickly pulled on a pair of gloves.   
  
“I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and we will resume our sword lessons when you return. Oh, and one more thing,” said Dumbledore, holding up a hand to stop them before they left. “Starting after you get back, there will be Apparating lessons for all Seventh Year students once a week. Professor Lupin will be teaching them.”  
  
Lupin gave a little smile, and a moment later Dumbledore had dismissed them.  
  
“Great,” Elle muttered darkly as they left the Room of Requirement. “Just what we need, more classes. As if we don’t have enough to worry about already.”  
  
“Come on, learning to Apparate will be fun!” said Harry, trying to lighten her mood.  
  
“Yeah, fun for you,” she mumbled back. “Knowing me, I’ll probably screw that up too.”  
  
“You will not!” Harry told her earnestly. “Don’t listen to whatever Parvati and Lavender might say, okay? You’ll get better at it, I promise. Besides, Lupin said that all you needed was the right attitude.”  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she replied. She playfully hit him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll race you to the common room.”  
  
Harry grinned back. “You’re on,” he said, breaking into a run.  
  
“Hey!” Ron called after them as they took off. “You do realize it’s almost two in the morning, don’t you?”  
  


* * *

 

The first day of holiday break finally arrived, complete with blue skies and dazzling sunshine. It was a perfect day to begin their vacation. The train was set to leave right after breakfast, so they got up early that morning, finished packing, and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The Great Hall was filled with students hurriedly eating their food and wishing each other a Happy Christmas before they left for home.  
  
After they hurried through breakfast, they headed back to the common room to get their stuff and then continued to where the rest of the students were boarding the train. All went smoothly until they reached King’s Cross station and departed. The station was swarming with parents and tourists, but they managed to make their way outside without getting lost. Hermione craned her neck looking down the busy street, and impressively managed to hail a cab quickly and without complications.  
  
All was fine until they reached the airport. Ron stood still and looked around with an uneasy look on his face, while Harry, Elle, and Hermione started walking toward the entrance.  
  
“What are you doing?” asked Harry, when he turned around and realized that Ron wasn’t coming.  
  
“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Ron asked weakly.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. “It will be fine.”  
  
The plane ride seemed practically endless. With an exception to Ron’s freak-out when the plane first took off, and his refusal to open his eyes, it was pretty eventless. Hermione had been on a plane plenty of times before, but Harry had never been on one in his life. It was exciting for the first hour or so, staring out the window at the microscopic ground below, but after that it got pretty old, so they spent the rest of the time wandering up and down the aisles and joking around with each other. Ron didn’t join in- he was too busy sitting in his seat, white-faced- scared to death at the idea of flying that high up without magic.   
  
At last, after many hours, the plane touched ground and they all breathed a sigh of relief. They were finally there.

Ron wobbled off the plane, a bit pale and woozy.  
  
“I don’t know how the muggles do it,” Ron croaked, earning him odd looks from passers-by. “Why can’t they just travel the normal way?”  
  
“Come on,” said Harry. “Let’s go get our luggage.”  
  
As they walked towards the baggage claim area of Los Angeles International Airport, Elle sucked in her breath as she looked around, expecting to recognize everyone and everything, but she didn’t. It felt weird being here, like she didn’t belong anymore, even though this was the place where she’d grown up. Maybe she’d feel differently once they got out of the airport…  
  
They picked up their luggage and stood there waiting, not knowing what to do. The airport was severely crowded, but Elle was used to the crowds. She dropped her luggage and clambered onto the nearest chair, scanning the area with her eyes squinted. Suddenly, an ear-piercing scream rang out from among the crowds, and Elle’s eyes lit up.   
  
It all happened in a blur. Elle jumped down from the chair and a squealing girl with short blond hair soon enveloped her in a huge hug. Harry and Ron covered their ears as the two girls shrieked and hugged. After a couple of minutes, they finally let go, and Harry noticed a tall boy with short, light brown hair standing nearby. He grinned at Elle and bent down to give her a small hug.  
  
“Elle! Long time no see!” he said enthusiastically.   
  
Elle smiled warmly. “Hi Brian,” she replied, accepting the hug. She turned around to face Harry, Hermione, and Ron.  
  
“These are my friends Ally Anderson and Brian Samuels.” She motioned towards the two of them and they both gave a friendly smile. “Ally, Brian, these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger…”  
  
“Oh, hi!” exclaimed Ally, throwing her arms in welcome around a very surprised Hermione and an equally surprised Ron. “I’m so glad to meet you!”  
  
Harry had to laugh. Ally acted just like Elle.  
  
“And um, this is Harry Potter,” said Elle, gesturing to him unnecessarily.  
  
“Hello,” said Harry.  
  
Brian’s eyes widened a little, but Ally winked at him and gave Elle a knowing smile.  
  
“Oh, so YOU’RE Harry,” she said slyly. “Elle’s told me all about you…”  
  
Elle’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment as she kicked her friend. Ally giggled.  
  
“We’ve missed you so much!” Ally exclaimed. “I’ve got tons to tell you!”  
  
Elle grinned. “So do I, believe me.”  
  
“You look different,” Ally observed. “Something’s changed about you. Did you do something to your hair?”  
  
Elle shook her head. “Nope, nothing’s changed.” Her eyes darted to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, and they understood not to say anything.  
  
“You guys are going to love it here,” said Brian. “We’ve got an amazing Quidditch pitch.”  
  
Ron grinned. He seemed to be loosening up.  
  
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” said Elle, picking up her suitcase and getting ready to leave. “I can’t wait to get changed, and then we can go to the beach, and then…”  
  
“Wait Elle, there’s been a slight change of plans,” said Ally.  
  
Elle whipped around. “What do you mean?” she asked.  
  
“Well, since my parents are renovating our manor, I got us a hotel instead.” She grinned, whipping out six hotel keys from her purse.  
  
“But, how did you pay for it?” asked Hermione, sounding excited despite herself.  
  
Ally laughed. “Don’t worry about it. My parents have great jobs at MACUSA.”

“The Magical Congress of the United States?” Hermione asked, impressed. 

Ally nodded. “They commute from here to New York every day.” She grabbed Hermione’s and Elle’s hands. “Now let’s go, I’ve got my convertible parked outside.”  
  
They left the airport and stepped out into the bright California sunshine. It was surprisingly warm, even though it was the middle of December. They reached a large, expensive looking cherry red convertible in the parking lot. Ally got into the driver’s seat and started the car, blasting the radio as soon as she had backed out. Then she put the top down.  
  
Even though Harry had never heard this type of music before, he thought that for the moment, it sounded perfect. And when Elle leaned against him in the backseat and Harry put his arm around her, he decided that he had never heard a more beautiful noise.  
  
Here he was, far away from London, far away from Hogwarts, and far away from his worries. Who cared about Voldemort and the prophecy? All he wanted to do was take the advice of the song lyrics blasting from the speaker in front of him.  
  
 _It's Christmas in California  
And it's hard to ignore that it feels like summer all the time  
But I'll take a west coast winter to remove my splinters_  
  
 _It's good to be alive_

* * *

The hotel turned out to be a towering, Victorian-style building stationed right on the beach. Cascading waterfalls were situated at the entrance and in the lobby, where there were marble floors and pearl-colored columns rising up from the ground to support the ceiling. Fish tanks filled with exotic, tropical fish were on display, giving the cream coated walls a dash of color. The guests all seemed to be young people dressed mostly in bathing suits, shorts, and tank tops.  
  
They dragged their suitcases across the marble floor towards the direction of the glass elevators. Harry could not keep himself from gazing around in all directions, impressed. Never in his life had he been anywhere so, well…glamorous. He became incredibly aware of the fact that they were surrounded by muggles, and was thankful that he had left Hedwig and all his spell books at Hogwarts. He hadn’t left his wand of course, but it was currently tucked safely out of sight in the back pocket of his jeans.  
  
They rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. Ally took out the room keys and distributed them.  
  
“I got us three conjoining rooms,” she said. “Elle, you and Harry are in room 534, Hermione, you and Ron will be in room 535, and me and Brian are in room 533.”  
  
Harry instantly became aware of the fact that he and Elle would be sharing a room together, and his cheeks burned at the thought. Elle took the room key, her face also turning red.  
  
“Thanks,” said Hermione, when Ally handed her the room key.  
  
“So what do you guys say we meet downstairs in about fifteen minutes and then hit the beach?” suggested Brian. “Besides, you guys need the grand tour of the city,” he added, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
  
Harry shrugged. “Fine with me,” he said. Ron and Hermione nodded also.  
  
They disappeared inside their rooms to get changed. The rooms were quite large and spacious, and came with a balcony, which looked out over the ocean. They had huge bathrooms that contained a sliding-glass shower and Jacuzzi-style bathtub. It was apparent that Elle’s friend had gone all out for their trip. In addition to all of this, Harry also noticed that there was only one bed…a large, king-sized bed. He turned away, and pretended not to notice.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, they were all ready to hit the beach. Harry thought it was downright hilarious to see his friends in bathing suits- generously purchased for them by Elle at the hotel gift shop. Him and Ron were both wearing swim trunks, and Hermione and Elle were both wearing bikinis, with shorts on over them. No words existed to describe how odd this looked, for Hermione at least. He could tell she was uncomfortable; she kept trying to cover herself up with her arms, but Ron didn't seem able to keep his eyes off her.

After meeting up with Elle’s friends downstairs, they traipsed down the walkway to the beach.  
  
It was an absolutely perfect setting- the sand and ocean were the flawless combination of powdery white and sparkling blue that you only dream about or see on postcards. Harry had never been to the beach before; he had never even seen the ocean. There were people surfing and a couple of little kids building sandcastles, others were skateboarding, blasting music, and exercising on gym equipment that was scattered over the sand. In the distance was a large Ferris Wheel overlooking the waves.   
  
Elle and Ally laid out a large blanket and then brought over some towels and lounge chairs. Ally sat herself onto one of the chairs, and leaned back with her sunglasses on, while Elle and Hermione peeled off their shorts. Hermione looked extremely uncomfortable now. 

“I told you I wanted a one-piece,” she hissed at Elle, looking aggravated. 

Elle shrugged. “This was all they had in the store, Hermione. Come on, Ron likes it!”

Ron choked and instantly looked away.   
  
“Aren’t you going to go swimming?” Brian asked Ally, who seemed quite at ease.  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Ally asked, yawning dramatically. "This is perfect tanning weather."  
  
Brian rolled his eyes. “So you’re just going stay like that all day?” he asked, exasperated.  
  
Ally shrugged. “Why not?”  
  
Harry laughed. Ally and Brian sounded just like Ron and Hermione when they bickered, in reverse.  
  
Elle laughed too. “Come on Hermione, let’s go,” she said, linking arms with Hermione and dragging her towards the water before she could protest.   
  
They had a blast splashing around and swimming over the waves. What made Elle the happiest was that her friends really seemed to be enjoying themselves. She had to admit, she had been a little worried that they wouldn’t quite fit in, but they seemed to be getting along with Ally and Brian just fine, and they seemed to like being away from Hogwarts for once.  
  
“Hey guys, watch this,” said Elle suddenly, dunking her head underwater.  
  
“Oh no, I hate it when she does this,” said Brian, rolling his eyes.  
  
They all watched intently as Elle lifted her head out of the water and sent a stream of ocean water flowing out from her mouth, like a human fountain. She was delighted at the looks of laughter and disgust on their faces.  
  
“That’s really gross, you know that right?” asked Brian, splashing water into her face. "You don't know what germs are in here." 

Ron immediately jerked his hands out of the water.   
  
After about an hour or so, Elle was ready to get out. Harry saw her swimming towards the shallow end and he followed her, while Hermione and Ron stayed. They began walking towards their spot on the beach when suddenly they heard a shout. They looked over and saw Brian carrying Ally over to the water, Ally obviously trying to fight her way out of his grip. She became quiet, however, when Brian finally threw her in the ocean with a loud splash. Harry and Elle laughed, and went over to sit on the now empty blanket.  
  
“So”, said Harry, as they sat down. “Are you glad to be back?”  
  
Elle smiled and leaned back. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ve missed this place.”  
  
“Well, your friends seem really nice.”  
  
He wasn’t lying- he genuinely liked them. Brian was a pretty cool bloke; he seemed a little too obsessed about Quidditch, and stared at his scar a bit too much for his liking, but was nice nonetheless. He got really excited when Harry and Ron told him that they played for their Gryffindor team. Brian informed them that he had tried out for his school’s team too, but didn’t make it. Ally was nice as well, although she seemed a little spoiled.  
  
Elle grinned. “Ally lived right next to me growing up, and then we both met Brian our first year of school.” She laughed. “I didn’t even know Ally was a witch until almost a year after I met her.” She gazed around at some people walking along the beach. “You know, most people here are witches and wizards, but you never would’ve guessed.”  
  
“Really?” asked Harry in surprise.  
  
“Yeah,” Elle answered. “The segregation between muggles and wizards isn’t nearly like it is in other parts of the world. Or like it used to be in New York, back in the 1940s. Did you know wizards and muggles were once forbidden to marry? Now it’s the complete opposite.”   
  
Harry tried hard to mask his shock. Back in London, there were tons of wizarding communities and towns, like Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, but here there didn’t seem to be any. Wizards and muggles lived and shopped in the same places, and nobody seemed to have a problem with it. He frowned. He didn’t know which way he liked better.  
  
“So, where did you live?” he asked, realizing too late that it may be a touchy subject. “Never mind,” he said hastily when he saw the look on her face.  
  
“No, it’s okay,” she said. “The house I used to live in was a block away from here, and the Academy of Magic was down the street from where I lived. Ally and I used to walk there every day. It was an okay school, nothing like Hogwarts of course.” She grinned. “But it was still a lot of fun.”

She sighed. "My house is in ruins now," she whispered. "Muggle police told the community it was a fire. It's still roped off with police type. I'm sure wizards could fix it in seconds but..." she trailed off, not answering, and looked upwards toward the sun so that Harry couldn't see her eyes. Harry hadn't seen her this emotional in a long time. She rarely showed sadness.  

“I miss my parents,” she said suddenly. “It’s hard being this close to home, and knowing I still won’t see them.”  
  
Harry nodded. “I felt that way every day during our stay at Grimmauld Place. I kept expecting Sirius to come into the room, getting ready to help us fight.” 

He watched Hermione and Ron splashing each other, and grinned to himself, remembering how long it took for the two of them to get together. He sighed and leaned back as well.

“This place is great,” he said, trying to take Elle's mind away from her old house and her parents. “I wish we never had to leave.”  
  
“Me too,” agreed Elle. “It was my favorite place in the world, until I came to Hogwarts.”  
  
They lay there for a couple of minutes, basking in relaxation. Soon after, Ron, Hermione, Ally, and Brian got tired of swimming and came over to join them.  
  
“That was fun,” said Ron, drying himself off.  
  
“Not when you kept splashing me!” shot Hermione.  
  
“Brian, I cannot believe you threw me in!” shouted Ally angrily.  
  
Brian laughed. “Come on, you know you enjoyed it!”  
  
Elle got up and put her shorts back on over her bathing suit. “I’m starving,” she announced, pulling her wet hair into a ponytail. “Let’s go to that hot dog stand over by the dock,” she suggested.  
  
“Yeah, and then we can walk around the boardwalk!” exclaimed Ally.  
  
They all purchased hot dogs and walked around, with Ally, Brian, and Elle pointing out the important sites and landmarks as they went along. There appeared to be a funny story or an inside joke that belonged to each and every one of them. 

After a while of showing them around, they began to swap stories of what life was like at Hogwarts as opposed to California. By the time their food was long gone, Ally and Brian were wishing that they could be going to Hogwarts, while Harry and Ron were swearing that Los Angeles was way better. They didn’t talk about everything though. Obviously, Voldemort and the Order of the Phoenix were strictly off limits.  
  
“Wow, it’s getting late,” said Ally, checking the time on her cell phone, which she was showing to Hermione.  
  
Elle grinned. “Well, I’m not tired,” she said.  
  
Harry grinned back. “Neither am I,” he replied.  
  
Brian winked. “Leave it to me,” he said. He grabbed Ally’s phone out of her hand, ignoring her cry of “Hey that’s mine!” and started dialing numbers.  
  
“Hey,” he said into the phone as somebody picked up. “Get the gang and tell them to meet up at the Hopping Pot in an hour, alright?” He hung up and tossed the phone back to Ally.  
  
“What’s going on?” Harry asked.  
  
“It’s just this night club, mostly muggles, but besides that it’s all right. I know the bartender,” Brian explained.

Elle frowned. “Brian, since when have night clubs been our scene?”

Brian sighed. “Never,” he agreed. “But some of the kids from school really want to see you.”   
  
Hermione looked uncertain, but nonetheless, they headed back to the hotel to get ready. Once they got to their room, Elle kicked off her flip-flops and ran to the shower. Harry secretly tried the door after she went in- it was locked. Harry suddenly felt ashamed of himself.   
  
With a sigh, Harry got dressed and waited for Elle to finish. He turned on the hotel TV and flipped through the channels, trying to entertain himself while he was waiting.  
  
Practically an hour later, Elle was still in the bathroom. The shower had been turned off ages ago, and now he could hear the sound of a blow dryer. He looked at his watch.  
  
“Are you ready yet?” he called to Elle.  
  
“Almost!” she shouted back.  
  
Five minutes later, Elle stepped out of the bathroom, and twirled around for Harry’s approval.  
  
“Well?” she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  
  
Harry smiled. “Fantastic,” he replied. And he meant it too- she did look really nice. She was wearing a black and pink dress, and her hair was hanging long and wavy around her waist. But Harry didn’t see how all that could’ve taken a whole hour.  
  
Elle smiled. “Thanks,” she said. She stuffed her feet into some sandals, and then she and Harry headed for the door.  
  
Everybody else was already waiting for them when they got to the lobby. They seemed to have gone all out for tonight’s occasion- especially Hermione. She looked great, dressed in a dress similar to Elle’s with her hair piled on top of her head. Ron seemed completely smitten.   
  
“I’m driving!” called Ally, leading the way out.  
  
They got into Ally’s convertible and drove to the club. It was just starting to get dark, and it was a little chilly. When they got to the club, Harry could see a bunch of people mulling around outside and loud music bursting from the interior. They had no problem getting in, and when they did Harry could hardly believe his eyes. The inside was larger than he had expected, with two stories and a large space for dancing right in the center. A bar stood off to the side next to the stairs, and as Harry looked up to the second story he could see a few tables and chairs, as well as a DJ spinning music. Colorful strobe lights circled the dance floor.  
  
“Hey!” called Brian to a group of people over by the bar.  
  
“Well, well, well, look who it is,” said one of the boys in an annoying drawl, a short freckled kid with sandy blonde hair. He looked at Elle, who stared back hesitantly.  
  
“Hi, Sean,” she said politely, clutching Harry's arm.  
  
“I heard you died or something,” Sean said with a sneer.  
  
“My parents did,” Elle replied, her whole body tensing up. “Not me.”  
  
Before awkwardness could ensue, the rest of the group began looking her way.  
  
“I don’t believe it! Elle, is that really you?” asked an Asian girl with long, velvety black hair.  
  
Elle nodded. “It’s me.”  
  
“Girl, I haven’t seen you in forever!” she said, jumping up to give her a hug.   
  
Elle greeted the whole group, and tried to introduce them all to each other, but the music was too loud. Harry flattened his hair over his forehead, hoping to avoid questions, but thankfully no one paid him any attention. After a while, Elle gave up.  
  
“Let’s sit down,” Elle said into Harry’s ear, dragging him to a set of couches in the corner and away from the group.  
  
“Who were all those people?” Harry shouted to her.  
  
She shrugged. “They used to be my friends. I don’t even know them anymore.” She noticed Harry’s messily flattened hair, and grinned. “Don’t worry- no one really knows who you are. You’ve been in the papers here, but with Voldemort so far away, no one pays them any attention.” She sighed. “I used to be like that,” she admitted, sounding a little ashamed of herself. 

“It’s okay,” Harry said, smiling slightly. “I’m a little relieved, actually.”   
  
Ron and Hermione joined them, and soon all four of them decided to try dancing. The DJ was playing one crazy, fast paced song after another, and even though none of them seemed to really know how to dance, nobody seemed to care.  
  
Later on, Brian came over carrying drinks for all of them. “Cheers!” he yelled, handing them out.  
  
Hermione took hers. “What is this?” she asked suspiciously. "I thought we were getting butterbeer."   
  
Brian grinned mischievously. “I got my friend to smuggle in some firewhiskey,” he said.  
  
Hermione’s eyes narrowed, but Ron’s lit up.  
  
“Brilliant!” he said, pouring the drink into his mouth. Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but Ron stopped her before she could say anything.  
  
“Just try some,” he insisted.  
  
Hermione frowned, and then sighed, defeated. They all watched intently as she raised the glass to her lips and took a little sip. At first she looked like she didn’t like it, but soon her face relaxed and she smacked her lips.  
  
“Well?” asked Ron anxiously.  
  
Hermione shrugged. “It’s all right, I guess. I don’t see what the big deal is.”   
  
“Can I please try some now?” Elle asked.  
  
She drank a little bit. “Gross,” she murmured, before pouring the rest of it down her throat. She shoved the empty glass back at Brian before grabbing Harry’s hand again.  
  
They kept dancing for another couple of songs. Harry really wished that Brian would stop coming back with more drinks, but nobody else objected. Soon Harry couldn’t keep track of how many drinks he or anyone else had consumed.  
  
Ron, unable to control his excitement, was getting louder by the minute, and even Hermione and Elle were starting to act chattier than usual. Harry couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Hermione consuming shot after shot of firewhisky, but was starting to feel a little light-headed himself, and began to consider maybe leaving soon. He didn’t know how long they had been there.  
  
“Harry come here, you have got to see this!” Ron practically yelled at him, gesturing toward the bar.  
  
There, dancing on top of the bar, were Elle, Hermione, and Ally, all barefoot. A crowd had formed around them, and people were cheering them on.  
  
Harry didn’t know what to do. He stepped up close to the bar and shouted, as loud as he could, “Elle?”  
  
Elle looked down. She stumbled and tripped off the bar, falling into Harry’s arms. Hermione and Ally jumped down after her, earning themselves applause from the crowd.

“Still a show-off I see,” the boy named Sean had muttered, looking at Elle in distaste. Harry was reminded suddenly of Malfoy, and wanted to punch Sean in the face. 

After the audience dispersed, Harry put Elle down.  
  
“I think it’s time to go,” he told her.   
  
Elle nodded. She looked tired.  
  
It took forever to get Ally and Brian, but finally they all got together and left the club. Ally fumbled around in her purse for her car keys.  
  
“Forget it, you’re not driving,” said Brian, grabbing the keys out of her hand. “I’ll get us a cab.”  
  
And so they ended up taking a cab back to the hotel, which was really the best thing to do. Harry felt like he could barely keep his eyes open. It was a wonder how they all managed to ride up the elevator and get off on the correct floor. Once he and Elle entered their room, Elle slowly made her way over to the bed and lied down.  
  
“Harry, can you please get me some water?” she asked softly. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”   
  
Harry nodded, grabbed an empty glass, and conjured up some water with his wand. But when he went back over to hand it to her, Elle was already fast asleep. She was curled up on her side, and the only thing she had managed to take off were her sandals.   
  
Harry sighed and laid the water down on the bedside table before throwing a blanket over her. He then kicked off his shoes and got into bed, not having the energy to get undressed. He rolled over, and within two seconds was asleep.  
  


* * *

 

The next morning, Elle peeked her eyes open and saw sunlight pouring through the open blinds. Her eyes fell on Harry, who was still sound asleep next to her. Her gaze drifted to the watch on his wrist, and her eyes widened. It was already one o’clock in the afternoon.

She started to sit up, but then an incredibly sharp pain shot through her forehead and made her stop. She groaned, and reached over to shake Harry awake.  
  
“Wake up,” she whispered. Harry’s eyes flickered open, and he groaned too.  
  
“What time is it?” he croaked.  
  
“After one,” she said. She slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Then she looked down and realized that she was still in her clothes from last night. Harry sat up too, and massaged his forehead.  
  
“I think I’ve got a hangover,” he said.  
  
Elle giggled. She couldn’t help herself. “That was my first time drinking,” she admitted.  
  
Harry nodded sheepishly. “Mine too,” he said. “And last.”  
  
“I don’t even remember getting back here last night, do you?”  
  
“A little,” Harry replied. “But what I do remember is you and Hermione dancing on top of a bar.”  
  
Elle’s mouth fell open in shock. “Are you kidding?”  
  
Harry shook his head, and she groaned for the second time.  
  
"I’m sorry. This isn’t something my friends and I usually do. I’d never even been to a bar before last night. Though, dancing for attention…that sounds like something I would try, for sure," she admitted thoughtfully. "But Hermione...wow. Just...wow."   
  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Hermione and Ron came in, fully dressed, and looking completely alert.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at them. “How come you two look so awake?” he asked accusingly.  
  
Hermione handed him and Elle what looked like small, purple pills. “Take these,” she commanded. “The headaches will clear up in no time.”  
  
“What are they?” Harry asked.  
  
“Think of them as anti-hangover pills”, Hermione replied. “I found out how to make them in a spell book for remedial potions and medicines.”  
  
“Hermione, you are a genius,” said Elle. The water from the nightstand floated over to her, and she quickly downed the pills before handing the water to Harry.  
  
“Perfect,” said Hermione briskly. Her brusque manner made her seem like she was trying to make up for her behavior the night before. “Now I want the two of you to get dressed and come out when you’re ready.”  
  
“Thanks Hermione, we owe you one,” said Harry gratefully.  
  
"No problem," Hermione replied sweetly. "And if any of you mention this to anyone back at Hogwarts, I shall hex you into oblivion."  
  
The three of them gulped and nodded.   
  
Hermione and Ron left while Harry and Elle got up and got dressed, separately in the bathrooms. When they met up with everyone else, they decided to just take it easy for the day. Ally, Brian, and Elle chose to take Harry, Ron, and Hermione around sightseeing. It was a pretty relaxing day, and at night they went to the beach again, spending the evening out under the stars, listening to the waves crash against the shore.  
  
The next few days spent in California were a whirlwind; they went everywhere and did everything. They saw Elle's old school, but thankfully, avoided the street with her old house. The girls even managed to drag the boys to the mall one afternoon. All too soon however, the last day of their vacation arrived. The next day was Christmas Eve, and they were scheduled to leave for London early in the morning.  
  
For their last day, everyone decided to do their own thing. Ron and Hermione went to check out the local bookshop, and Brian and Ally went surfing. Harry and Elle were left alone.  
  
“Follow me,” said Elle, heading in the direction of the beach. “I want to show you something.”  
  
Harry followed her along the beach and onto a little, secluded trail that led away from the crowds and tourists. Soon, the other voices began to drift away, and the atmosphere around them turned silent and peaceful.  
  
After a while of walking, they came to a clearing. In the center of the clearing was a patch of white sand, with a small hammock hanging above it, tied to two palm trees at opposite ends. Overlooking the hammock was a cove, with solid, tranquil water. It was completely perfect, and completely deserted.  
  
“What is this place?” asked Harry, looking around.  
  
Elle shrugged. “Let’s just say it’s a place only locals know about. Or ex-locals, for that matter. Plus, there's an invisible field around it to keep muggles away. If any muggles approach, they see a trash-filled beach and signs saying, 'Rip Tides'.”

She stepped over to the water, and tapped her foot in lightly. “It’s warm,” she said, satisfied. “Let’s go in.”  
  
And so they did. They waded around and floated atop the slow bobbing of the waves. They talked a little, but would often fall silent for long moments at a time. There was no need to talk…the silence was a comfortable one.  
  
The hammock was practically calling out to them, so they both clumsily lay on top of it to watch the sun set. It was the ideal ending to their fantastic escape from reality.  
  
When it got too dark to see, they reluctantly left and returned to civilization, stopping to purchase some food before heading back to the hotel.  
  
When they entered their room, they gasped with surprise. The lights were all turned off, and instead about a dozen or so candles were lit. The balcony doors were left open, and a soft breeze caused the sheer curtains to billow out around it, creating an opening for the moonlight to peek through.  
  
Elle found a note written on hotel stationary lying atop the chest of drawers, and picked it up.  
  
“Harry and Elle,” Elle read aloud. “I thought this would be a nice touch for your final night in California. Enjoy. Love, Ally.”  
  
Elle sighed, shaking her head. “I’m going to kill her.” She put down the letter, and she and Harry stood there, staring at each other uncomfortably. Finally they locked eyes, and both burst out in nervous laughter.  
  
“You know, this is way too forced,” said Harry, stuffing his hands in his pockets, though his heartbeat was starting to quicken.  
  
Elle nodded in agreement. “Definitely,” she replied. She ran around the room and blew out all the candles, while Harry turned on the lights and threw some pillows and blankets on the floor.  
  
“Better?” he asked.  
  
Elle nodded. “Much,” she answered. "Now it doesn't look like a cheesy romantic soap opera." She bit her lip and stood there, looking even more nervous and anxious than before.  
  
“Maybe we should just get ready for bed,” Harry mumbled, barely audible.  
  
“Okay,” said Elle. “I’ll just, um, change in the…”  
  
“The toilets?” Harry suggested helpfully, as she seemed to be at a loss for words.  
  
“Right,” Elle replied gratefully. “I’m going to get changed in the bathroom.”  
  
“Okay,” said Harry, as she grabbed her nightclothes and headed for the bathroom. With a sigh, he got undressed, turned out the lights, and climbed into bed, not at all tired. His mind was racing with thoughts he had never considered before; or at least, never considered doing while in the Hogwarts dormitories.  
  
Elle came out a few minutes later, wearing a short satin nightgown, and her hair up in a loose bun. She got into bed next to Harry, her face red. Both of them lay awkwardly next to each other, silent.  
  
Harry didn’t know how many minutes had passed; five, ten, fifteen? He could feel himself slowly relaxing and feeling a bit more comfortable. He turned over on his side and faced Elle, who was on her side too. Her eyes were wide open.  
  
Harry grinned. “I thought you were tired,” he said.  
  
Elle shook her head. “No,” she responded evenly.  
  
Her hand slowly reached out, and she entangled her fingers with his. Harry squeezed back.  
  
“I had really good time these last couple of days,” he said, fluffing the pillow behind him and leaning his elbow on it.  
  
“Me too,” Elle whispered back. She inched slowly closer to Harry.  
  
Harry’s heartbeat quickened again, and he turned his eyes onto hers.  
  
“I love you,” he said softly into her ear.  
  
They inched their faces closer until their lips met, and closing their eyes, they kissed slowly and passionately, until…  
  
“Ow!” Elle exclaimed, as she accidentally moved her elbow back and it hit the headboard. “Ugh, sorry. It’s dark in here.”  
  
“Are you okay?” Harry asked, concerned, massaging her elbow.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Her eyes flickered over to one of the candles, and its flame burst into life. They both sat up, and Elle reached her arms up to undo her bun. Her hair fell back down over her shoulders as she reached for Harry’s hands again under the covers and squeezed them tight. Her whole body seemed to be glowing.   
  
“Do you think this will change us?” she asked.  
  
Harry knew what she was talking about. His adrenaline was pulsing.

“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly. “We won’t know until we try.”  
  
Elle swallowed. “And are we willing to let things change?”  
  
Harry grinned. “I’m willing to let  _everything_  change.”

“I wanted to wait for the perfect moment,” Elle confessed, glowing even brighter.

“This seems like the perfect moment to me,” Harry replied.   
  
He searched her eyes, and Elle gazed back at him. She was smiling, but it wasn’t a silly, joking smile. It was a confident smile, and her eyes were full of trust.  
  
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry asked.  
  
Elle nodded slowly. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sure.”  
  
She slowly reached down and slid her nightgown up and over her arms, letting it fall delicately to the floor. She was naked and seemed to be trembling, though Harry knew it wasn’t from cold.   
  
Harry gave her a comforting smile, letting her know she had nothing to be ashamed of. He felt himself trembling a little too.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her softly, as she made to cross her arms over her chest.

She stopped and smiled, and Harry got the confidence to peel off the rest of his own clothes. The dim light from the candle allowed them to gaze at each other; Elle was still trembling slightly, but she had moved closer and was using her hands to explore Harry’s upper body. Harry didn’t mind at all, and his skin immediately erupted in pleasant tingles the further down she went; her touch was so warm and loving. 

“Are you scared?” he asked quietly.  
  
She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes,” she confessed, pausing in her movements.   
  
"Don't be," Harry said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. His every brain cell was screaming for her not to stop, but he took the opportunity to caress her chest softly. “I love you.”   
  
Elle shivered as Harry continued his own exploration of her body, and her insecurities immediately melted away. She kissed him once more, letting him know that it was okay to keep going. Harry knew by the intensity of her embrace that there was no turning back now. In a flash, he pulled her on top of him and they vanished under the sheets, swept away by a sea of love and flesh. With a sort of nervous, tender energy, they moved against one another, their lips parting briefly to let out long, exhilarated breaths.

When their movements became more intense and their bodies began to practically radiate heat, Harry took hold of Elle’s waist and laid her down against the sheets. As gently as possible, he positioned himself on top of her, his chest covering hers. As he slipped inside of her, he heard her suck in her breath sharply.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked breathlessly, cupping the side of Elle’s face gently with his hand.

“Yes,” she breathed back, stroking his shoulders with her hands. “Please, don’t stop.”

He began moving within her slowly, until the tight grip of her hands on his back prompted him to go faster. Until this point, they had both been letting out nervous giggles and winces. However, with every caress of the hand, and with every movement of their bodies, these soon turned to delighted gasps.

Elle’s skin glowed more radiantly, and Harry felt that he must be glowing too as he let her warmth envelope him. Everything about that moment was both awkward and magical, both embarrassing and comforting. But most importantly of all, it just felt right. 

The heat, glow, and sweat from their bed grew in intensity, and the crash of the ocean waves muffled their joyful cries throughout the night.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> The lyrics are from the song "The Lights and Buzz" by Jack's Mannequin.


	29. A Love in Flames

The sun blazed through the open balcony doors, and the curtains floated on the soft breeze. Rays of light made their way into the room like uninvited guests, and slowly crept up to the bed, where two sleeping figures were clearly visible underneath the sheets. The light grew brighter and brighter until the morning was truly alive. Birds could be heard chirping among the swaying palm trees below, and far off in the distance, waves could be heard crashing rhythmically against the sand.  
  
It was almost noon before one of the sleeping figures stirred. Harry opened his eyes and blinked a little. He stretched his arms up over his head and glanced briefly at the bedside alarm clock, before his eyes flickered down to where Elle was sleeping.  
  
He watched as she turned over and faced him, though her eyes were still closed and her head still rested innocently against the pillow, her blonde hair spilling around her like a halo. Harry impatiently bounced on the mattress until her eyes opened and rested on him.  
  
“Morning,” Harry whispered.  
  
Elle smiled a sleepy smile. “Morning,” she repeated. “That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.”  
  
“I know,” said Harry playfully, grinning wickedly and flinging himself on top of her. “Let’s do it again!”

“Slow down!” Elle laughed, raising her face and kissing him.  
  
Harry pulled away, unable to stop smiling. He ran a hand through Elle’s hair.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, suddenly growing concerned.

Elle shook her head. “No,” she said, also smiling. She was glowing again, although this time the energy around her burned with contentment, not anticipation. “But I have to say, it was much smoother the second time…and the third time…”

Elle winked rakishly, and they both laughed.

“Practice DOES make perfect,” Harry said, his eyes twinkling.

Elle smiled, but then frowned. “Was I okay?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, was it…enjoyable…for you?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Are you seriously asking that question?” he said, amused. “It was more than okay, Elle. I’m so happy right now. YOU make me happy.”

Elle bit her lip and looked down, grinning. “You make me happy too,” she said. “I’m so glad I waited for you.”   
  
She wrapped some covers around her and headed towards the bathroom. Harry could hear water running, and the sound of her rigorously brushing her teeth. A few moments later, she came back out and sauntered over to the bed.   
  
“Do I look any different?” she asked.  
  
Harry cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, you’re a woman now,” he said, nodding in approval. He puffed out his chest, and gave her a cheesy grin. “And I’m a man.”   
  
Elle went to shove him, but instead Harry grabbed her arm and they started kissing again, falling humorously on top of the pillows.  
  
The obnoxiously loud telephone ring interrupted them. Elle rolled her eyes, and without moving stuck out a hand for the receiver. “Hello?” she answered with a yawn, holding the phone against her cheek.  
  
“Elle?” came Hermione’s voice on the other end.  
  
“Hermione?” asked Elle, sitting up and cradling the phone in her hands.  
  
“Where are you?” Hermione demanded. “We’ve been waiting in the lobby for the past fifteen minutes!”  
  
“Oh,” Elle said, gazing absently at the time flashing on the clock. “Um, we sort of just woke up…”  
  
“What?” Hermione exploded. “Elle, our plane leaves in two hours! We have to get to the airport!”  
  
Elle yawned again. “Okay,” she responded carelessly. “We’ll be down in a minute, I promise.”  
  
“Fine,” Hermione replied tightly, before hanging up.  
  
“What was that all about?” Harry asked, as Elle sighed and put the phone back down.  
  
“Oh, nothing,” she answered. “Just a friendly reminder from our darling Hermione.” She laughed. “Come on, we better hurry up and get dressed. I don’t want to make her mad.”  
  
Harry sighed, content. “Do we have to?” he asked, not willing to face reality just yet. He didn’t want to go back to a dormitory full of boys. He wanted to share a king-sized bed with Elle, overlooking the ocean, forever.   
  
Elle hit him on the head with a pillow. “Yes,” she insisted. “Now get your lazy arse up!”  
  
Ten minutes later, they all met up in the hotel lobby, and fifteen minutes later they were walking leisurely along the street toward the airport, rolling their luggage behind them.   
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Brian were in front of Ally and Elle, who were both taking their time and not in any rush at all. Elle bit her lip as she observed all the sights, wondering when she’d be back. Of course, she might never return to California again. Had this place actually been her home? It was hard to believe that all this sunshine had been replaced with cold, rain, and snow in the blink of an eye. However, it had also been replaced with love. And who knew what she’d be doing with her life after Hogwarts?  
  
Elle couldn’t be certain of anything, but there was one thing she was absolutely sure of, and that was Harry. She knew deep down that no matter where life took her, they would be together. It sounded completely corny, but she just couldn’t see herself living without him.  
  
Of course, as soon as Harry popped into her mind, Elle’s thoughts drifted once again to last night. She still couldn’t believe that they had had sex. It was a frightening thought, yet powerful at the same time. And instead of feeling awkward this morning, they had been more comfortable with each other than ever.   
  
Her cheeks began to turn red without warning.  _Oh, great, she was blushing. Stop thinking about sex, stop thinking about sex, stop thinking about sex…_  
  
Ally turned her head sideways and caught Elle smiling to herself, her face red. Ally nudged her.  
  
“What’s up with you?” she teased. “You sure have a strange glow about you this morning.”  
  
Elle nudged her back. “Be quiet,” she replied, but couldn’t hide the grin that now seemed to be spreading itself uncontrollably up to her eyes.  
  
Ally stopped in her tracks and grabbed Elle by the shoulders, giving her a knowing look.  
  
“Elle,” she started calmly. “Did you and Harry…?”  
  
Elle didn’t answer; she just chewed on her lip and looked away, totally guilty.  
  
Ally sighed and shook her head, but she was smiling. “So was that the first time?” she asked.  
  
Elle nodded, unusually quiet. Ally had lost her virginity with an international exchange wizard when she was fifteen, and Hermione, as she had learned over the summer, had done it with Ron. Elle was the least experienced out of her friends, and suddenly felt very shy about it.   
  
She turned to Ally with a concerned face. “You don’t think it was a mistake, do you?”  
  
Ally returned her look with one of shock. “By the look of that smile, it doesn’t seem like a mistake,” she answered. “You waited until you were ready, that’s what’s important. I’m so happy for you, and I haven’t seen you this sunny since your parents died!”   
  
She gave Elle a smile. “You were so miserable after they were gone, before you moved. You tried to hide it, but Brian and I could both see through it. And as your oldest friend, I’m telling you that Harry’s a great guy, and that he loves you. He lights up every time someone mentions your name, and he cannot take his eyes off you!” She laughed and Elle blushed even harder. “You two are going to stay together for a long time, I know it.”  
  
Elle gazed at her friend gratefully. “Thank you,” she said, before the girls wrapped each other into a hug. 

“You used the contraceptive charm, right?” Ally asked, suddenly stern.

Elle laughed. “Yes,” she said, turning red again.

“And just tell me, does he keep the glasses on during sex, or…” Ally began, before Elle shoved her hard in the ribs.   
  
Hermione turned away from the boys and walked towards them, looking quizzical.  
  
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Elle, are you blushing?”  
  
Elle smiled and took Hermione by the arm, pulling her aside and quickening her pace so that they were now ahead of the boys. They had quite a lot to talk about.

* * *

Harry grinned to himself as he watched Elle and Hermione whispering off to the side so that no one could hear them. He sighed; this vacation had been completely worth it. And not just because of losing his virginity. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy before, as if he were constantly floating on air. Being with Elle made him feel so carefree, so alive…emotions he had never remembered experiencing in his life. Before Elle came along, he always felt like something was haunting him. Now he felt like he could conquer anything, with her by his side.   
  
As he continued walking, his eyes strayed to the store on his right that he was passing at that very moment. He stopped and stared at it, going over the thoughts in his mind and wondering if he was crazy.  
  
Ron, not noticing that Harry had stopped, kept on walking and bumped right into him.  
  
“Ouch!” he complained, looking disgruntled. Harry didn’t know whether this was because he had bumped into him, or because he was about to get on another airplane and was silently panicking.   
  
“Sorry,” Harry apologized quickly. “Hey, do you mind if I stop in here real fast? I’ll only be a few minutes.”  
  
Ron stared up at the storefront skeptically. “Sure,” he replied, shrugging, as if he had no idea why Harry would want to visit such a shop.  
  
“Thanks,” Harry said, before hurriedly ducking through the large opening of a bohemian-style jewelry store.

* * *

“Bye!” Ally cried, as she flung her arms around Hermione and Elle. “I’ll miss you!”

Elle laughed. “I’ll miss you too!” she exclaimed, hugging her friend tightly in return.  
  
The girls hugged for a moment before breaking apart. Then Elle turned to Brian.  
  
“Bye Brian,” she said, squeezing the tall boy tightly around the middle.  
  
“Take care, kiddo,” he murmured warmly.  
  
They heard their flight being called over the intercom, and the four of them hurried to gather their things. Since it was Christmas Eve, the airport was even more crowded than before, and a line was already forming to board the plane back to London. The terminal was filled with holiday decorations and ornaments, and even though the feeling of Christmas spirit was in the air, it wasn’t the slightest bit chilly. Even so, Harry was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts, where Christmas was more spectacular than anywhere else.   
  
“Well, I guess we’d better go,” Harry said.  
  
“Yes,” Hermione agreed. “It was nice meeting you!”  
  
“You too,” Brian said sincerely, smiling at them. “Your four had better come down and visit us again soon, alright?”  
  
Elle laughed. “We promise,” she said. “And you two must visit us as well! I’ll owl you both as soon as we get back. Have a Merry Christmas!”  
  
“Same to you,” Ally piped. “Goodbye!”  
  
They exchanged another round of farewells, and then it was time to go. With a semi-feeling of regret, Elle handed over her plane ticket to the lady at the front of the line and boarded the aircraft, turning her back on the place where she’d grown up for the second time in her life.  
  
Thankfully, today’s departure was much more pleasant then the last time she had made a lonely flight to London. At least now she wasn’t by herself, or accompanied with suitcase after suitcase of all her acquired belongings, or faced with the notion of arriving on her aunt and uncle’s front doorstep, unwanted. Nope, this time she was settled with the idea of leaving, knowing that she was heading to Hogwarts, and that she was not alone. Also, this flight to London would not include long bouts of crying in between long bouts of staring blankly out the window, reliving the sight of her parent’s empty home.   
  
Once they were all seated, the plane took off, and before they knew it they were leaving sunny California. A half an hour into the flight, Elle had already gotten bored with the headphones and CD player that Ally had lent her, and was now leaning her head against Harry’s shoulder, fast asleep. Ron and Hermione were sitting behind them, talking and laughing while Hermione tried to keep Ron distracted from looking out the window, showing him the many book purchases she had bought at the muggle bookshops. This didn't seem to be helping much; Ron still appeared quite green and was earning odd looks from the flight attendants every time he looked out the window and yelped.   
  
As soon as Harry could be sure nobody was watching him, he reached underneath his seat and took out the bag that contained his purchase from the jewelry store. He took out the small black box, opened it, and gazed at the ring for a couple of moments. He still couldn’t believe he had bought it, and was lost in thought, until he felt Elle stir next to him. Quickly, he stuffed the bag with the ring back under his seat. He had no idea what he was going to do with it just yet.   
  
The rest of the flight went as smoothly as could be, and by the time the plane touched down at the airport, it was already night. From the airport, they hailed a cab to King’s Cross station (which was filled wall-to-wall with tourists coming in for the holidays), and from the station they flagged down the Knight Bus for their journey back to Hogwarts.  
  
The Knight Bus, usually fairly empty, was filled to the brim tonight, and after numerous stops all over the city, they finally arrived at the castle.  
  
Hogwarts was decorated in the usual holiday splendor, and the castle looked magnificent. Magical snowflakes fell from the ceiling in the Great Hall, and Christmas trees and mistletoe lined every corner. The school seemed to be even emptier than it normally was during winter break, but as far as Harry was concerned, the absence of many gossiping students and sneering Slytherins was fine with him.  
  
After bringing their luggage back to the common room and freshening up a bit, they joined the few remaining students from different houses and their professors for a quiet Christmas Eve dinner.  
  
But as usual, with the four of them, nothing was ever quiet. They all sat on one long table in the middle of the Great Hall, with the regular house tables pushed up against the wall. Elle, Harry, Hermione, and Ron talked continuously throughout dinner about their vacation, and even after dinner was over, they continued to entertain Hagrid and Lupin with tales of their trip. The teachers received the censored version, of course, and Lupin and Hermione soon got into a strong discussion over the benefits of muggles and wizards living and working together.   
  
"So, all in all," Lupin addressed Elle with a kind smile. "Was it good to be home?"  
  
Elle grinned and looked at Harry. "Couldn't say," she said softly. "I was in California."  
  
Sleeping in the boy’s dormitory again was something Harry thought he would be looking forward to, but the truth of the matter was, he kind of missed getting into the same bed with Elle. As he lay in bed that night, listening to the sound of Ron’s snores, he couldn’t help but anticipate graduating from Hogwarts and him and Elle living together, with no one around to distract them.   
  
His thoughts continued to wander aimlessly, and he found himself thinking about the prophecy. He hadn’t thought about it since Hermione had brought it up, before the holidays. After the attack on Hogwarts, he had gotten far too used to the days of normalcy, and the happiness of being with Elle. 

With a pang of guilt, he realized telling Elle was the next logical step, especially if he expected them to ever be intimate with each other again. And especially if he was planning on asking her the most important question of his life. He didn’t know why telling Elle felt more terrifying than telling Ron and Hermione. Maybe it was because, as cheesy as it sounded, he just wanted a happily ever after like everyone else. He wanted a relationship free of worry over death and murder. When they had first started dating, he hadn’t thought telling her would be a big deal, but now he discovered that he was wrong…it was a very big deal. Elle deserved to know the truth. If he was going to ask to spend her life with him, she needed to know just what she was getting into.   
  
Harry swallowed shakily. He had never imagined their relationship would amount to this much. Sure, he knew he loved her, but this vacation showed him just how much he cared for her and her safety. He closed his eyes and tried to picture telling Elle that he was to either murder Voldemort, or be murdered by Voldemort, and he felt another stab to the heart. Even though Elle was an easygoing and carefree person by nature, he knew this would hurt her.   
  
Harry tried to shake the thought from his head, but once it was brought up, it was almost impossible to drive from his mind. What were they doing, training with swords, if this all didn’t lead to one day fulfilling the prophecy?   
  
He closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep. He’d tell her as soon as the time was right.  
  
At least, he planned on it.

* * *

“Welcome back, everyone!” Dumbledore announced at their first Order meeting following winter break.  
  
Christmas had come and gone, and before they knew it, everyone had returned from their holiday trips and were ready to begin working again. Classes had resumed on Monday, and it was already Friday evening. They had spent the whole week catching up on their lessons and receiving lectures from their teachers, many of whom stated that if they didn’t start preparing for N.E.W.T.’s now, then they would most certainly fail.  
  
“Today, instead of practicing defense moves, we are going to learn how to attack,” Dumbledore continued, grabbing everyone’s attention again.  
  
They were already in formation, standing with their partners and swords in hand. After getting the basics of sword fighting, as well as defense moves, they were finally ready to move on to something more challenging and dangerous.  
  
“To attack,” instructed Dumbledore. “We use the front edge of the blade, instead of the strong part, which is for defense.”  
  
He and the other teachers walked around the room, showing them all how to hold their swords and where to strike.  
  
“Both the sword fighters need to know the right time and place in which to attack. If you hang back from striking a second longer than your opponent, or move even the slightest step to the left, when your attacker is going right, then you are automatically liable for serious injury. It is important that you pay very close attention to your partner’s movements, as well as your own. Attacking with the swords must be done with equal parts speed, agility, feeling, and timing. Do you all understand?”  
  
There was a great movement amongst the room as teachers continued to go around and demonstrate. But through the rustling of their motions, Elle could still catch Lavender Brown’s shrill voice from all the way across the room as she gossiped with Parvati.  
  
Elle’s eyes remained focused on her sword, but her ears were trained on Lavender’s conversation, desperate to hear if they were saying anything about her. Luckily for her, the girls weren’t being too subtle.  
  
“A hundred galleons says Elle won’t be able to get it right again,” Lavender said to Parvati, even though her comment was loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I mean honestly, have you ever met someone so dim and conceited?”  
  
The two girls burst into harsh giggles, and everyone else just kind of stared between Elle, Lavender, and Parvati, looking uncomfortable. Elle didn’t know how to respond. Even the teachers had heard Lavender.  
  
Elle could feel her face getting hot and her temper rising. Why did those two make her so angry? She opened her mouth to say something, but McGonagall beat her to the punch.  
  
“Miss Brown, that remark was out of line. If I hear one more nasty word out of you, points will be taken away from Gryffindor. Keep your comments to yourself from now on,” McGonagall commanded, a frown on her face.  
  
“I’m sorry Professor,” Lavender replied, mock concern all over her face. “But everyone feels that Elle gets all the attention, and it's starting to detract from our training."  
  
“What?” Elle stormed over to Lavender, her cheeks flushed with fury. “I don’t do anything to get attention!”  
  
“Yes you do,” Lavender contradicted. “You’re doing it right now!”  
  
“But you started it!” Elle shouted back, ignoring Hermione’s desperate attempts to calm her down from behind.  
  
“Girls!” McGonagall raised her voice, trying to regain control, but Lavender started up again.  
  
“You think you’re so great, coming here from America and going out with the  _famous_  Harry Potter, and you do everything you can to get people to notice you, which I think results from some hideous inferiority complex. Well, guess what, Elle? Nobody cares about you! The only reason you strive for attention is so you can disguise the fact that you’re a screw-up who fails all her tests and can’t even learn how to fight! So why don’t you do us all a favor, and go back to where you came from?"  
  
By the time Lavender was done with her rant, her body was heaving with anger and she was practically gasping for breath. Nobody had expected any of that to come out of her mouth, especially Elle. It was obvious that Lavender had been harboring these feelings of resentment about her for quite some time, and had chosen this opportune moment to spew them all out.   
  
Well, Elle hoped she had gotten everything off her chest. She realized Hermione had grabbed onto her, and broke out of her grasp.  
  
“You know what, Lavender? You can just shut your big,  _fat_  mouth, because unless you suffer from insane, inexplicable jealousy, I don’t see any reason for your whining. As far as I can see, I haven’t done anything to purposely get attention from anyone, especially you. How I perform in class and whom I date is none of your business, so please do me a favor and  _stay out of it_! Also, for your information, I’ll live wherever I choose, and if you don’t like that, well…too bad!” she shouted, almost near screaming.  
  
Lavender laughed, somewhat maniacally. “Oh, brilliant, you get all defensive, and are too caught up in trying to sound tough that you totally miss my point!” she screamed back, her face now living up to her namesake.  
  
“I know exactly what you’re trying to say, Lavender,” Elle argued. “Do you honestly think I care whether people like me or not? Whether I get attention?”  
  
Lavender glared at her. “I think you do, Elle,” she hissed. “I think you care more than anything.”  
  
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.   
  
“Now that is quite enough…” McGonagall said, trying to cut in once again, but not before Lavender interrupted her for a second time.  
  
“My point,” she continued. “Is that you always put on this act of being so cheerful, and you don’t even seem to care about anything other than having a good time! You don’t care about homework, or grades, or even the Order. It’s like you think all this hard work is just a big game. And when you make a joke or complain, and people laugh, that’s the only thing that matters! You can’t be serious about anything! You’re too busy acting like the ‘cute, cool girl’ to realize that not everything in this world revolves around you!”  
  
Lavender had rendered Elle speechless, a very rare feat indeed. Elle stood there silently, chewing on her lip, facing Lavender with a glare that could kill. She felt awful. Not because Lavender had shouted at her. But it was listening to the words she had said...and knowing deep down that everything was true. Well, her grades weren’t that bad, but all that stuff about needing attention? Elle felt ashamed. Had she been acting so foolish this whole time at Hogwarts?   
  
McGonagall came between Lavender and Elle, angrier than anyone had seen her in a long time.

“You two girls will leave this meeting immediately,” she said, nostrils flaring dangerously. “Put away your swords.”  
  
Elle threw down her sword and walked out, ignoring everybody in the room as best as she could. Once she was gone, Lavender sighed and, with her head held high, laid down her sword, spun on her heel and walked out too.  
  
Harry started for the door to go after Elle, but McGonagall stopped him with her furious stare. She looked at him like that for a while, before saying coldly, “Leave if you must, Potter, but I would hate for you to be deprived of learning something valuable.”  
  
Harry considered this a moment, before taking off and leaving the room as well, fully aware that Dumbledore was burning holes into his back with his eyes. He continued down the path that led from the Room of Requirement up to Gryffindor Tower, but out of the corner of his eye spotted Elle heading down a different path, one that lead towards the Owlery.  
  
He caught up to her, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her into a dark corner.  
  
“What are you doing?” she protested angrily, yanking her arm away from Harry. Elle had had enough of people manhandling her today.   
  
“Why did you have to act like that in there?” he asked. He felt mad, even though he knew he shouldn’t be.  
  
“Like what?” she asked, annoyed at his accusatory tone.   
  
“You completely went off on her, when you knew full well that’s exactly how she wanted you to react!”  
  
Elle was positively fuming. “She was the one who started it!” she hissed icily. “I was just minding my own business, but then she had to…”  
  
“Elle, she wants you to get in trouble, and you’re falling right into her trap. I know Lavender is infuriating, but that doesn’t mean you should fight with her over everything she says!” Harry reprimanded.  
  
“So what, you think I should have just sat innocently in the corner and let McGonagall handle things?” Elle asked testily. “Tell me Harry, is that what you would have done?”  
  
She had a point. Harry took a deep breath.

“All I’m saying is, you should learn to use your head next time,” he advised calmly. “And try not to give in to your temper.”  
  
Elle threw him a dirty look. “You sound like my father,” she whispered cruelly.  
  
Harry was taken aback. “Well…good,” he said finally. “Maybe somebody has to.”  
  
There was a ringing silence. Elle took a shaky breath and stared at Harry, her eyes suddenly very bright. 

“Do you believe her?” she whispered.  
  
Harry blinked. “Believe her about what?”  
  
“What she said about me,” Elle replied, her green eyes reduced to slits. “How I’m just an attention-seeking, annoying, careless brat? Is this what everyone's been thinking?”  
  
Harry sighed. He had never seen Elle this worked up before. She must have really let Lavender get under her skin.  
  
“Of course not. But listen,” he said, looking around. He wasn’t in the mood to analyze her and Lavender’s fight, and besides, he felt as if he didn't get this out soon, he would burst. “You need to know something. And this is more important than you and Lavender, trust me.”  
  
Elle was about to tell him off for avoiding the subject, but stopped when she saw the look that had just come over Harry’s face. Something important was on his mind, something far more essential than her and Lavender, for sure. She knew he was telling the truth.   
  
“Know what?” she asked, feeling slightly nervous.  
  
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”  
  
Elle swallowed. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly. Whatever this was, it was not going to be good.  
  
“You know how everyone calls me ‘The Chosen One’?” Harry asked. Elle nodded. “Well…it’s because…there’s this prophecy,” Harry started, concentrating on how to properly say what he was about to say. He hadn’t expected it to be this difficult.  
  
“A prophecy?” Elle asked, confused already. “What is it about?”  
  
“It’s about me,” Harry answered, trying to remain calm. “And it’s about Voldemort.”  
  
Elle shivered, and shrank back against the wall. It felt as if she had just been doused in icy water all over again.

“What does it say?” she questioned softly, slightly fearful.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, and recited the words that had been drilled into his mind from the very moment he had heard them.  
  
 _“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…”_  
  
Harry trailed off, leaving a deafening stillness at the end of his words. He gathered enough courage to look at Elle and found her staring straight at him.  
  
“I don’t believe this,” she said in a hush. “It’s just…I can’t…um, I mean…how did you hear this?”  
  
“Dumbledore told me,” Harry responded, looking away. “At the end of Fifth Year, right after my godfather was murdered. It means…”  
  
“No, I know what it means, I understood every word,” Elle said solidly, not tearing her gaze away from Harry. “I’m just having trouble believing it. You mean you actually have the power to destroy Voldemort, but either you have to kill him, or…”  
  
“Get killed myself,” he finished gravely.  
  
“So it’s true, then?” she whispered.  
  
Harry nodded. "It's true. There's no other way. Neither can live while the other survives."  
  
Elle took a deep breath. "But you have the power of love!" she argued, her eyes turning bright again. "That's the power the Dark Lord knows not, isn't it? Is that enough to defeat him?"  
  
Harry sighed. "It could be," he told her honestly. "Or it could not."   
  
Elle still didn't want to accept this. "But prophecies don't always have to be fulfilled," she tried vainly. "There must be hundreds made all the time, you could just ignore it, or..."  
  
Harry took her by the arms. "Don't you think I've thought about that a million times?" he whispered to her. "I've considered the possibilities...that it might not mean me, that it might be a fluke...but it doesn't matter. I'm going to live up to the prophecy. I'm not running away from this. And I'm telling you now, no matter what, that I'm going to face it. Not because I have to...but because I NEED to, Elle."   
  
Elle felt tears stupidly forming in her eyes. How could this happen? Why him? The only boy she had ever truly cared about, and here he was, telling her that there was a definite 50/50 chance that Voldemort could murder him. She knew there would be dangers in dating Harry Potter, but she hadn’t expected this.   
  
Her breath caught in her throat and she found herself unable to breathe properly. Harry turned away, but she grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, wanting him to look her in the eye instead of avoiding her gaze.  
  
“You’ve know this for over a year…why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, her voice beginning to shake.  
  
“I didn’t know how you’d react,” Harry said, shrugging, but looking guilty.  
  
“How I would react? Harry, it doesn’t matter what my reaction is! One, you should’ve known I’d be upset, and two, you’re supposed to tell me these things!” she cried, tears starting to spill over. She wiped them away defiantly.  
  
“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t feel like telling you every detail of my personal life, especially something as important as this!” he shot back, growing angrier by the second. As soon as the words left his mouth, he instantly regretted saying them, but it was too late.   
  
Those words had stung, and Elle bit her quivering lip. What other things had Harry been keeping from her?  
  
“But…you should WANT to tell me!” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “I tell YOU everything.”  
  
“Do you?” Harry asked, suddenly suspicious.  
  
Elle looked him in the eye. “Yes. That’s what couples do, Harry. They share their personal lives.” She looked down. “And after our vacation, I’d say we shared more than that.”   
  
Harry flushed, and then groaned in frustration. “I can’t believe this!” he said loudly. “I’ve just told you the most important thing I’ve ever had to deal with, and all you’re worried about is that I didn’t tell you sooner? Don’t you think you’re being a little unsympathetic?”  
  
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not bombarding you with sympathy, but I figured you’d have had enough of that by now! You’re a big boy Harry, and if you expect me to baby you about this, and tell you everything’s going to be okay when it’s obviously not, then you are severely mistaken. You just have to calm down, and…”  
  
“See, there you go again,” Harry cut her off. “You turn this conversation into being about you, and then you try to give me orders…”  
  
“I only told you to calm down!” she retorted angrily. “That’s literally  _just_ what you told  _me_ to do! Fine, stay mad if you want, but I don’t see how it’s going to solve things.”  
  
Harry glared. “You know, I think in a way, Lavender was right,” he said in a low voice.  
  
Elle was shocked. “What?”  
  
“It’s almost as if you don’t even care about this at all,” he continued slowly. “All you’ve done is argue with me about the prophecy, instead trying to accept it and deal with it. Like I need you to do.”  
  
Elle sighed. “Okay. And how would you like me to deal with it, Harry?” she asked sarcastically. “Grab a pair of pom poms and cheer you on? Hand you a box of tissues while we both mope over how you’re going to die?”  
  
Harry was furious. “Now you’re making jokes,” he stated in disbelief. “You really  _can’t_  be serious about anything, can you?”   
  
Elle took a few steps back, deeply hurt. 

“Fine,” she said tenaciously. “If you agree with Lavender so much, and think I’m just a self-centered girl who can’t take anything seriously, and who’s only interested in getting attention, then fine. Go away. You can have this super important conversation with someone serious instead.”   
  
Harry shook his head. “You know what?” he hissed. “That’s  _exactly_  what I’m starting to consider.”  
  
He turned around and stalked off down the corridor, leaving Elle standing alone in the small, dark corner.

* * *

Elle leaned back against the wall, her whole body shaking with rage and fear. She couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Sliding to the ground, she buried her face in her hands and took slow, steady breaths. She knew what Lavender said about her was true, but she never thought for a second that Harry would take Lavender’s side. Was this what everyone had been thinking about her all along? Did everyone hate her?  
  
Also, Harry’s prophecy bothered her more than she would ever let on. How could Harry possibly think that she didn’t care? Maybe she hadn’t responded entirely well to the news, but that was only because it had come as a shock. And he had taken her reaction the wrong way. She didn’t know what he had wanted her to say, but how was she supposed to know what to do? Did he want her to comfort him, and tell him everything would be all right? Nothing was ever going to be all right, so there was no use in saying it!  
  
Overcome with anger, Elle narrowed her eyes at the statue of some famous wizard standing to the left of her. Without realizing what she was doing, the statue suddenly exploded into a thousand pieces, which crashed to the floor with a deafening smash.  
  
Elle blinked, surprised by what the force of her anger had done.  
  
“Reparo,” she muttered. The statue sprang back together and stood upright again.  
  
Figuring that creepy caretaker and his mindless cat would come skulking her way after hearing the noise, she got up before anybody came to inspect the damage. She walked away, but didn’t dare head for Gryffindor Tower. There was no way she could face Harry or Lavender tonight, that was for sure.  
  
However, after lingering around in the corridors for almost an hour, she realized she had no choice but to return to the common room. Crashing on one of the comfy armchairs in the conveniently deserted common room, Elle continued to lay awake. Her thoughts ran wild, and she stared into the dwindling fire as though it were the last thing on earth.  
  


* * *

Harry thrashed about in bed, still seething with irritation and annoyance. Was it possible that he had overreacted? No! It wasn’t like he had expected Elle to coddle him and tell him it would all be okay, but there was a good chance that he could be murdered in the very near future! Didn’t she care? No, all she cared about was that there was a prophecy concerning Harry, and it didn’t include her.

Harry sighed. He knew that probably wasn’t true, but he couldn’t help thinking it. The truth was, the more he thought about Elle’s reaction, the more he started believing that Lavender’s analysis was dead-on. Elle _did_ always seem to be the center of attention, and she never appeared to want to work hard at anything. He knew that she was smart, but she was also very carefree, and, well…she could at least try to take things seriously from time to time.  
  
Then, Harry frowned. Maybe he was judging her unfairly. After all, those were the reasons he liked Elle in the first place, right?  
  
Aside from all this, Elle still had no right to harass him about not telling her the prophecy. It was his life, and he could tell her whatever he felt like telling her.  
  
He turned over again, flashing back to their argument. He felt guilty about leaving her, but it wasn’t like she had tried to go after him. He remembered hearing a loud crash as he walked away. Right afterwards he had spotted a dark, shrouded figure lurking in a corner not far from where he left Elle. He started to go after it, but a second later the figure had vanished. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he saw something…  
  
Harry closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Things were getting out of control fast, and were becoming far too much for him to handle.  
  
And they had only been back at Hogwarts a week. 

* * *

 

The next morning, Elle woke up to the sounds of talking and laughter from students descending the stairs that led from their dormitories. Embarrassed about being spotted sleeping on an armchair, she left the common room as quickly as she could. She didn’t want to risk facing anyone in the Great Hall, so she headed instead for the library, figuring nobody would be there this early in the morning.

She was wrong.  
  
A soon as she stepped foot into the dusty, quiet reading area, she saw Hermione sitting at a table surrounded by books. Elle hurriedly turned to leave, but it was too late.  
  
“Elle!” Hermione called, waving her over from where she sat.  
  
“Shh!” hissed Madam Pince sternly from behind her desk.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Elle whispered as she headed towards her. Hermione moved some of her books aside and scooted over so that Elle could sit down.  
  
“What do you think?” she responded. “N.E.W.T.s.” Hermione gasped as she got a better look at Elle. “Elle, what happened to you? You look terrible! Where did you go last night? I saw you sleeping in the common room on my way here.”  
  
Elle looked down at her rumpled, slept-in jeans and t-shirt, and reached up to feel her tousled, matted hair.

“Harry and I got into a fight,” she said tiredly. “A bad one.”  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Wow, two fights in one night. What happened?”  
  
Elle shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. “Oh, it was…” she said vaguely. Then she swallowed. “Harry told me about the prophecy.”  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it. She eyed Elle warily.

“Oh,” she said slowly, comprehending.  
  
Elle sighed. “Anyway, long story short, I ended up sleeping on a chair in the common room. I just...I couldn't face anyone after hearing that news.”  
  
Hermione gave her a sympathetic smile. “It was hard for Ron and I to hear the prophecy too. I remember when Harry first told us; I wasn’t good at hiding my shock, but we just assured him we’d be there, no matter what happens. That we’d face Voldemort together.” She looked at Elle. “What did you say?” 

Elle’s eyes started to get bright again. “I didn’t really get a chance to say anything,” she admitted slowly. “I might have made a few sarcastic comments, and then he said that Lavender was right. That I’m not serious enough for him.”

Hermione opened her mouth, and Elle knew she was about to start defending Harry. Elle didn’t want to hear it at the moment.   
  
“So, what happened at the meeting after I left?” Elle asked, cutting her off.   
  
“Well…” Hermione began, but at that moment Ron walked into the library and came over to them.  
  
“Thought I might find you two here,” he said, eyeing all the scattered books with a wary eye. “You do realize it’s only nine o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, right?”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “If you have a purpose for being here Ron, please make it known.”  
  
“Dumbledore wants to see you and Lavender in his office, right now,” Ron said, looking at Elle.  
  
Elle groaned loudly. “Why?” she grumbled, standing up and kicking the chair aside. “I didn’t start anything!”

She smoothed down her hair as best as she could, not wanting to look like a mess in front of Lavender and provide more reason for ridicule.  
  
“Hey, did you and Harry get into a fight or something?” Ron asked curiously. “Because he seemed pretty angry last night…”  
  
“That’s none of your business!” Elle snapped, without realizing it. She looked up and saw Hermione and Ron staring at her with shocked faces.  
  
She sighed. “Ron, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking…”  
  
“No, I understand,” Ron said, his tone suddenly cold. “I’ll just remember not to bother from now on.”  
  
He took off, leaving the two girls behind in the library.  
  
 _Great_ , Elle thought.  _Now he’s mad at me too._  
  
She told Hermione she’d see her later, and headed for Dumbledore’s office, expecting some sort of punishment for raising havoc in the middle of an Order meeting. She reached the stone gargoyles just as Lavender arrived, and Elle’s face clouded over. They stopped and glared at each other.  
  
“I don’t know the password,” Lavender said, eyeing the gargoyles warily.  
  
Elle opened her mouth to give a smart remark about just how much Lavender didn’t know, when a voice behind them stated quite clearly, “Ice Mice.”  
  
The stone gargoyles leapt aside and Dumbledore swept past them, leading the way up the revolving staircase. Elle and Lavender both followed him, not saying a word to each other.  
  
They reached his office, and Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk as the two girls occupied the seats directly in front of him.  
  
“Before we start,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I want to make something clear. Whilst I don’t expect the two of you to apologize, I do expect you to keep a civil tongue when you are in each other’s presence. I will not tolerate any more arguments or disruptions, is that understood?”  
  
They nodded. Dumbledore sighed.  
  
“I was fully aware, when I made the decision to let teenagers join the Order, that we would be dealing with this eventually. Disagreements are unavoidable, and I will accept it. However, there are things happening now that are bigger than the two of you. I allowed both of you to join because I trust and believe that you are mature enough to handle the responsibility. I pray that you will not disappoint me again.”  
  
They shook their heads in understanding, and Dumbledore nodded his approval.  
  
“Excellent,” he said. “I would like to say that although Professor McGonagall does not think it wise for you to be let back into meetings, I have agreed to grant you a second chance.” He smiled. “I know that sometimes emotions can get the better of us. But be warned; if I get word of any unnecessary, juvenile cruelty between the two of you, I will not allow you to come back- contract or no contract. Understood?”  
  
“Yes, Sir,” they replied in unison, avoiding eye contact with each other.  
  
“Very well,” Dumbledore said lightly. “You are free to go.”  
  


* * *

 

“What was that all about?” Parvati asked as Lavender met up with her.  
  
They were standing in a secluded corner outside the Great Hall, while everybody else was still inside enjoying their breakfast.  
  
“Oh, nothing,” Lavender replied. “He said that if Elle and I didn’t stop fighting, then we’d be kicked out of the Order.” She scowled. “Not that I’d mind if Elle got kicked out. I swear, she comes sauntering up to his office in the same clothes she wore yesterday, thinking she’s, like, the greatest thing that ever walked the planet! She makes me want to scream!”  
  
She caught a glimpse of Parvati’s face, where a malicious smile was slowly making its way across her lips.  
  
“What are you smiling at?” Lavender asked, annoyed.  
  
“I have an idea,” Parvati said in a soft whisper. “I know a way that we can get back at her.”  
  
Lavender stared at her in disbelief. “Parvati, I just told you, I can’t be mean to her anymore. She’d tell on me to Dumbledore in an instant!”  
  
Parvati smirked. “ _You_  can’t,” she said. “But _I_  can.”  
  
Lavender rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she’d tell on you too.”  
  
“There are other ways of getting back at her,” Parvati mused. “Just leave it to me.”  
  


* * *

The next week was, in the simplest terms, a living hell for both Harry and Elle. Since both were stubborn, and not about to admit that either had been wrong, they stayed mad at each other the whole week.

During meal times, Elle made sure to sit at the end of the table next to Hermione, while Harry sat on the opposite end next to Ron. In classes, one of them sat all the way in the back, while the other remained in the front, and they made sure not to speak to each other at all. When classes were over, each one refused to stay in the common room at the same time as the other. Elle and Hermione began taking off for the library immediately after classes had ended, so that wasn’t a problem.  
  
What was a problem, on the other hand, was avoiding Lavender and Parvati. Even though Lavender had kept her word to Dumbledore and hadn’t so much as glared at Elle, Parvati seemed to be making it her personal mission to get back at Elle for the both of them. Only instead of being directly nasty to her, Parvati couldn’t seem to keep her eyes (or hands) off Harry.  
  
During Quidditch practice, Parvati oftentimes pretended as though she didn’t know what to do, making Harry come over and show her the proper way on how to catch a Quaffle. Just watching Parvati try and flirt with him made Elle want to punch her. But she resisted and just turned away from the disturbing sight. The last thing she wanted was for them to notice she was insanely jealous.

However, as she flew towards the ground at the end of Quidditch practice, she couldn’t help shouting to Harry, “Looks like Parvati isn’t the only one who needs help with their balls!”  
  
She ignored the astonished looks on both of their faces.  
  
As if practice wasn’t bad enough, the torture continued during class. Parvati would always hang around Harry and ask questions about assignments, always making sure Elle was looking when she did it. Now that Parvati was aware of Elle and Harry’s fight, she seemed to be around him every waking moment, just itching to make her move. When they had dinner in the Great Hall, Parvati took it upon herself to sit next to Harry, ignoring the dirty looks she received from Ron and Hermione by occupying Elle’s old seat.  
  
Ron told Elle that Parvati practically cuddled up to Harry in the common room at night, batting her disgusting eyelashes and thrusting her body in his direction. Harry was too polite to tell her off, so Ron begged Elle to do something.

But Elle didn’t know what to do. She was too preoccupied with the unsettling fact that Parvati was trying to steal Harry away from her…and so far, she seemed to be succeeding. Was Harry really just being polite?   
  
_But Harry would never fall for Parvati_ , Elle thought, trying to make herself feel better.  _He loves me, right? Even though we’re not speaking to each other, we’re still together. Right? Harry’s probably too clueless to even realize Parvati is flirting with him._  
  
Elle sighed angrily. She was still mad, but she didn’t want to lose Harry completely. If only he would apologize; then everything would be fine.

* * *

Harry sat alone in the common room, trying desperately to finish yet another essay for Snape. It was very late, and only a few people were left to keep him company, although they were all occupied with their own work. Elle and Hermione were still at the library, but were bound to come back any minute, and he wanted to hurry up and finish before they did.  
  
He frowned. Why wouldn’t Elle just apologize? Everything would be fine if she did.  
  
Harry dipped his quill into some ink and lowered it to the parchment to scribble out a few last sentences, but before he could write anything, Pavarti came over and plopped herself down beside him.  
  
“Hi Harry,” she cooed, doing that annoying thing with her eyelashes again.  
  
Harry sighed. “Hi Parvati,” he said, trying his best to ignore her.

It was weird, but it seemed as if Parvati was purposefully trying to always be near him, every second of every day. It was starting to become very aggravating, and Harry wished she would just leave him alone.  
  
“Can I help you with something?” he asked, trying to give her the hint to take a hike.  
  
Parvati smiled. “I love how you’re always so helpful,” she sighed. “But I just felt like talking to you and, well, here you are.”  
  
Harry grimaced. “That’s great Parvati, but I have a load of work to do, so could we talk later or something…?”  
  
Parvati pouted. “But this can’t wait!” she persisted, getting so close to Harry that he could smell her nauseating perfume.  
  
He slowly inched away and groaned inwardly. “Fine. What is it?” he asked, not caring if he sounded rude.  
  
“Well…” she paused dramatically, fixing him with a wistful stare. “It’s about Elle.”  
  
Harry’s face darkened. “What about her?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.  
  
Parvati tilted her head, looking around conspiratorially before saying, “She’s not right for you, Harry. You need someone more serious.”  
  
“Meaning someone like you?” Harry asked, with raised eyebrows.  
  
“Right!” Parvati said, delighted at this epiphany. “Someone like me. Think about it.”  
  
Harry slammed his Potions book closed. He stood up abruptly, and headed for the boy’s staircase. “I have to go,” he stated firmly, brushing past her.  
  
“No wait!” cried Parvati, stopping him and grabbing his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was out of line.” She sighed, and gave him a small smile. “Come sit back down, and I’ll help you with your essay if you’d like.”  
  
Harry paused. There was no point in not finishing, and he supposed he could stay for a few more minutes, write the conclusion, and then head up to bed.  
  
“Okay,” he said, defeated.  
  
He sat back down and reopened his book, trying not to get distracted again. Parvati went to follow him, but was stopped by Lavender.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lavender hissed. “Elle’s going to be back any second!”  
  
“You want to get back at her, don’t you?” Parvati whispered, eyeing the back of Harry’s head.  
  
“Well, yes, but…” Lavender faltered, not knowing what else to say.  
  
“Then leave me alone!”  
  
Parvati broke away from Lavender’s pleading gaze and settled down once again next to Harry. She sat in silence for a few minutes, letting him finish his work. Once he was done, he threw down his quill and folded up the parchment, a look of relief on his face.  
  
“Finished?” Parvati asked, flashing him a wide smile. Ron glared at her as he left to go upstairs for bed, but Harry didn’t notice.  
  
“Yeah,” he said once Ron was gone, returning her smile with an uncertain one. “I’m sorry for being rude earlier.”  
  
Parvati shook her head. “I deserved it,” she replied. “But there is one way you could make it up to me.”  
  
She gently touched Harry’s arm, and kept her hand there. Harry narrowed his eyes and looked down at it.  
  
“What are…” he began to ask, but paused when Parvati stuck her face up to his. She was extremely close. Harry tried to back away, but she wouldn’t allow it. Parvati had him in a death grip.  
  
“I really like you,” she said. “I’ve liked you ever since we went to the Yule Ball together.”   
  
Before Harry could let out a word of protest, Parvati had closed her eyes and tilted her head. She was coming right at him.  
  
Harry realized what she was going to do a second too late. Quick as a flash, Parvati’s lips were resting on top of his, and her hands were roaming all over the back of his head and neck. It was supremely uncomfortable.   
  
Harry was in shock. He felt like he was being taken advantage of, and that Parvati was in some way violating his rights. Did this count as sexual harassment?  
  
Of course, this was what he was thinking when Elle and Hermione walked through the portrait hole. Their arms were full of books and they were in the middle of a conversation, when Hermione caught Parvati kissing Harry and suddenly fell silent.  
  
Elle followed Hermione’s gaze and gasped, dropping all her books and parchment.  
  
As they came tumbling to the floor, Harry finally gained control of his senses and broke away from Parvati. He scrambled to get to his feet, but it was too late. He had been caught kissing another girl.  
  
“Elle…” Harry managed to get out, tripping on his way over to her.  
  
She looked at him strangely. “So this is what happens when we avoid each other?” she asked dangerously. “You start making out with other girls behind my back?”  
  
Harry shook his head. “Elle, I can explain…”  
  
“Don’t bother,” she whispered. Looking past Harry, she saw Parvati sitting on the floor, her lips raw and a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Lavender stood in the back, observing the scene with an almost frightened expression.  
  
“It wasn’t my fault!” Harry insisted. “Elle I swear to you, she just grabbed me and started kissing me, but I didn’t even want her, I…” he paused, grasping for the right words. “Elle, I would never do anything to hurt you. Please…believe me.”  
  
He tried to take her hands, but she jerked them away as if she had been stung.  
  
Elle considered his eyes. She hadn’t thought it was possible. Yet here Harry was, kissing one of the girls she truly hated, in front of all their friends. How could he? How  _dare_  he?  
  
She closed her eyes.  
  
“I’m sorry Harry,” she said quietly. “But I just can’t trust you anymore. You said I should be more serious, right? Well, fine. We’re over. And I truly meant that.”  
  
With a single tear sliding down her cheek, and without another glance at anybody, Elle fled up the stairs, leaving Harry behind to stare miserably after her.  
  
A few moments later, the dormitory door slammed shut.   
  



	30. Vanished With a Kiss

Elle threw herself face down on the bed. She hated Parvati! And Harry! How could he do this to her?  
  
She was so angry, so upset, so confused, that she could barely think straight.   
  
She heard a knock at the door. Then she remembered she had slammed the dormitory door shut when she had run in.  
  
“Go away!” she yelled, suspecting it was Harry coming to give her another excuse. Then she remembered boys couldn't come in the girl's dorms and felt even more stupid.   
  
“It’s me!” Hermione called from outside. “Can I come in?”  
  
Elle took a deep breath and waved her hand at the door, her face still buried in her pillow. The door swung open and Hermione entered, sighing at the sight of Elle. She went over to the bed and gently sat down beside her, rubbing her back and trying to console her.  
  
“Elle, you have to calm down,” Hermione insisted.  
  
“Calm down?” Elle asked, sitting up in outrage. Her whole body was trembling and glowing in rage. “Harry kissed another girl! And not just any girl! The girl I hate most in the entire world!”  
  
“But you haven’t even heard what he has to say!” Hermione exclaimed reasonably. “I’m sure if you just listen to him, you’ll find out what really happened.”  
  
Elle stared at Hermione in disbelief. She should’ve known this was coming. Hermione was Harry’s best friend first. She was bound to take his side.  
  
“I know what I saw,” Elle sniffed. “Harry and Parvati were kissing, and that’s that. I don’t need to know anything else.”  
  
“I think you’re jumping to conclusions,” Hermione continued. “I mean, I’ve known Harry for a long time, and he just isn’t the type of person to do something like that. I’m sure it wasn’t his fault.”  
  
Elle shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood to explain to Hermione that she wasn’t just upset over the kissing. If it hadn’t been for the fight over the prophecy, then she may have been a bit more forgiving.   
  
“I don’t care,” Elle stated firmly. “I’m never talking to Harry or Parvati again. And you can tell him I said that.”  
  
“I’m not telling him anything,” Hermione said, getting up and going to her own bed. “Not until you speak to him yourself.”  
  
“No,” Elle said stubbornly.  
  
“Well, have it your way,” Hermione whispered, climbing into bed. “But if you love Harry as much as you said you did, then you would know he would never do that to you.” Hermione turned her head to the side, but then seemed to change her mind and spoke to Elle again.

“He trusted YOU with the prophecy, Elle. Not Parvati, not Lavender- you. You’re the one he cares about, no matter what he may have said afterwards. Telling you the prophecy was a big deal for Harry, and I know he didn’t handle it properly, but…don’t think this has everything to do with some stupid fight about your attitude.”   
  
Elle didn’t answer. She continued to sniffle and cry silently to herself in the dark, wondering if everything she always thought was wrong.   
  


* * *

Harry trudged up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, looking almost as down and depressed as he felt. When he entered the room, he found Ron still up. Everyone else was asleep.

Ron took one look at Harry, and knew something was seriously wrong. His eyebrows shot straight up as Harry collapsed face down on the bed, not even bothering to undress.  
  
Ron sighed. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “You and Elle had another fight?”  
  
“Worse,” Harry said, his voice muffled by the pillow. “She just broke up with me.”  
  
“Seriously?” Ron asked, surprised. “Just now? What happened?”  
  
Harry rolled over onto his back and sighed, gazing at the ceiling. He felt exhausted, and all he wanted to do was sleep. However, he knew he would never be able to rest without explaining things to Ron.  
  
“As you know, Parvati was going mental and started hanging all over me, and then she kissed me just as Elle walked in the room. Elle saw us, freaked out, and now she probably will never speak to me again.”  
  
Ron whistled slowly. “Talk about drama,” he muttered. He cleared his throat. “Well, don’t worry mate. I’m sure she’ll calm down eventually. I mean, you two are in love, right? She can’t stay mad at you forever.”  
  
 _Oh yes she can_ , Harry thought, remembering their argument about the prophecy, and how he had taken Lavender’s side. Kissing Parvati was just the icing on a very hurt-filled cake.

“Ron,” Harry said slowly, wondering if he was about to sound completely mental. “I was going to give Elle something. 

Ron raised his eyebrows again. He looked both shocked, yet slightly amused.

“Does this have something to do with that bag you’ve been hiding under your bed?” Harry looked at Ron in surprise, and Ron laughed. “Come on, you really thought I wouldn’t notice?” he added.

Harry quickly pulled out the ring, and showed it to Ron. Ron examined it thoughtfully.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Ron muttered, handing Harry back the box and shaking his head.

“Do you think I’ve gone mad?” Harry asked, shoving the ring back under his bed before Seamus, Dean, and Neville could wake up. 

Ron sighed. “Yes,” he said honestly. “For Merlin’s sake, Harry, you get in the girl in bed once, and now you want to marry her?” When Harry blinked at Ron, stupefied, Ron laughed and said, “You thought I wouldn’t notice that either? What’s this really all about?”

Harry sighed, and leaned back against the pillows. “I just want to be with her,” he said miserably. “Elle’s made me happier than I can ever remember being, and I guess I wanted to ask her before…before the prophecy can be fulfilled…”

Ron took a deep breath. “I understand,” he said, facing Harry with a serious expression. “I do, mate, honestly. With your situation, it’s not so crazy. But, you _did_ just tell Elle about the prophecy. And then, well, you got caught kissing Parvati. She’s not perfect, and she’s going to need time to process it. Give it some time, okay?” 

Harry nodded, grateful for Ron’s advice. He took off his glasses and turned on his side, still not bothering to change his clothes.

“I’m going to bed,” he told Ron, although both knew that sleep, for Harry, wouldn’t come so easily.

* * *

 

The next morning could not have been worse. As much as Harry tried to get Elle’s attention, she absolutely refused to give him the time of day. She was avoiding him even more so than she had for the past week, and seemed morally opposed to entering the common room at all costs. Harry did the best he could to talk to her and to make her listen, but it was no use. She refused to speak to him, or hear what he had to say.  
  
Harry was in a very bad place. He felt defeated, helpless, and guilty. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t have an answer, but he was thankful that at least some good had come from this; Parvati wasn’t talking to him anymore. It appeared that she had gotten what she wanted, which was to get back at Elle, and now she wanted nothing more to do with Harry. Even though Elle failed to notice this, Harry was still grateful- he didn’t think he could take it if Elle caught him and Parvati conversing after what had happened.  
  
The days that followed weren’t much better. Elle continued to decline all contact with Harry, and he was growing tired of constantly following her around and trying to tell her the truth. He felt as if his heart was literally shattering into a thousand pieces and that, for the second time, Elle didn’t really care about him. How could she just go on avoiding him and forget about everything they had been through together? And…didn’t she love him enough to forgive him for one little mistake?   
  
What Harry didn’t know was that Elle hated not talking to Harry, and hated having to shun him. But she knew what he wanted to talk to her about, and knew that if she were forced to respond, she would end up bursting into tears. She couldn’t let herself break down in front of Harry. Harry obviously thought she was a selfish, spoiled brat who was dumb and careless; he had practically told her so. He thought that she was mad about his kiss with Parvati; truly, she was hurt that he hadn’t trusted her with the prophecy sooner. She was scared that this was his way of telling her that he didn’t want to be with her anymore, and that Lavender was right about everything.  
  
 _Well_ , Elle thought.  _I’ll give him what he wants. If he can’t stand me that much, then I’ll leave him alone._  
  
She knew that the only reason Harry wanted to talk to her was so that he could apologize, and play the nice guy just trying to set things right. She didn’t think she could bear it if Harry said to her that he didn’t think she was right for him after all, and that he just wanted to be friends. She knew she couldn’t steer clear of Harry forever, but she was going to try. And if that meant avoiding Ron and Hermione too, then so be it.   
  
For the next couple of weeks, Elle began pouring herself into her studies. She spent a lot of time in the library, and was often late to class as a result. When she was in class, she sat by herself, far away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Outside of lessons, she was either camped out at the library, or in the girl’s dormitory, and at mealtimes she sat with Draco and Ginny over at the far end of the Slytherin table, where nobody else sat.  
  
The only times she found it hard to stay away from Harry was in Order meetings and Quidditch practice. During Order meetings, she kept her mouth shut for a change, and stayed focused on learning how to attack with her sword, determined to improve and not give Parvati or Lavender a reason to laugh at her. And she did get better. To everyone’s surprise, Elle seemed to have finally caught on to Dumbledore’s instructions. Her blade slashed through the air so fast that it resembled nothing more than a blur of silver, and Hermione constantly had to block her using her sharp-edged sword.   
  
Quidditch practice was tough, though. Since Harry was captain, Elle had to follow his orders and take his advice for a whole hour, all the while earning scathing looks from the gruesome twosome. Elle seriously considered quitting, but had to admit, it was kind of fun swinging Bludgers at their faces and pretending it was an accident. In the locker room after practice, Elle changed out of her robes as fast as she could and beat it out of there, ignoring Harry’s shouts for her to listen to him.  
  
Going on like this was torturous, and Elle found herself anticipating the end of the school year more than ever, even though she had no idea where she was going to go.  
  
By the end of the third week of this new routine, Harry slumped down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall between Ron and Hermione, resting his head on top of his arms and blocking out the world. His eyes were red and bloodshot from many sleepless nights, and his hair was rumpled even more so than usual.  
  
Ron and Hermione eyed him sympathetically. Elle hadn’t entered the hall yet, but Harry didn’t care if she saw him like this.  
  
“Still heartbroken?” Hermione asked, stating the obvious.  
  
Harry sighed miserably. “She won’t even look at me,” he mumbled.  
  
Hermione sighed too. “Well, I would talk to her myself, but she won’t listen to me either,” she replied, patting him on the shoulder. “It will be alright, don’t worry. She’s stubborn, and so are you.”  
  
“No, it won’t,” Harry said, sitting up straight and looking at Hermione with a hurt gaze. “You don’t understand, Hermione.” He glanced across the Hall and saw Elle come in, as usual heading for the Slytherin table and not even turning around to look at the Gryffindor table. “This isn’t just about the kiss, it’s about the prophecy, and how I called her careless. I can’t let her go on thinking I want her to change who she is.”  
  
“Then go after her,” Ron said, as if it were that simple. “Right now. Take a risk.”  
  
Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and stood up.

“Elle!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.  
  
Everyone in the Great Hall became silent and looked at him. Elle stopped and turned around, heading for the doors, away from Harry.  
  
“Elle!” he shouted again, running after her, aware that all eyes were on them. He jumped through the doors just as they were closing and stood in front of her, blocking her path. They stood in the exact same spot they were in the first time they met.  
  
She glared at him. “Can you move?”  
  
“No,” he answered. “I need to talk to you.”  
  
She sighed. “I have nothing to say to you, Harry. Now let me pass.”  
  
“How can you honestly tell me you have nothing to say?” he demanded angrily. “I think I deserve an explanation for why you’ve been avoiding me!”  
  
“I don’t have to explain a thing to you!” she cried. “You’re the one who ruined things, not me. I’m only doing what you want. I’m getting serious.”   
  
“How can you be so sure that’s what I want? You haven’t even heard what I’ve got to say!” he asked incredulously. “You have no clue what really happened with Parvati!”  
  
“Harry, I saw the whole thing!” she screamed in his face. “Don’t you dare lie to me!”  
  
“But Elle, I’m not lying!” he protested earnestly. “You have to believe me, it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know she was going to…”  
  
“And did you do anything to stop her?” Elle asked heatedly.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I begged her to kiss me and destroy my relationship with the girl I love, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”  
  
“Fine,” Elle said resentfully. “Let’s just pretend for a minute that I actually believe you, okay? If you’re that concerned with gaining my forgiveness, then why do you think Lavender was right about me? Why did you imply that I don’t care about the prophecy?”  
  
Harry blinked. He was not expecting this sudden form of attack. Lavender’s comments must have hurt her more than he possibly could have imagined.

“Oh please, can we not go there?” he groaned.  
  
Elle crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
“Come on, I’m not the only one who got angry that night, and you know it!” he argued.  
  
“You’re right,” Elle said. “But as I recall, I’m just a self-centered girl who doesn’t know how to be serious, so why should anything I say matter?”  
  
She shook her head and brushed past Harry, leaving him helplessly standing there.

“I have to go,” she said softly. She was on the verge of tears, but she absolutely could not let Harry see her cry.  
  
Harry turned around. “So that’s it?” he spat. “You’re just going to run away from me again?”  
  
Elle ignored him, but picked up speed. Harry lost it.  
  
“Yeah, that’s it, GO AHEAD!” he screamed, as she broke into a sprint and ran around the corner, her hair flying out behind her. “JUST MAKE ANOTHER DRAMATIC EXIT!”  
  
He stopped and waited to see if she would come back and shout at him, but she didn’t. The corridor was quiet.  
  
Madder than ever, Harry made a fist and punched it into his other palm. He turned around and walked back into the Great Hall, only to be greeted with more silence. At the sight of him, a few scattered whispers broke out, and Harry had the feeling like the whole room had been listening to their fight.  
  
He made his way back over to Ron and Hermione just as the bell rang, and grabbed his bag angrily, swinging it over his shoulder. He couldn’t wait to get out of there.  
  
“Er, no offense Harry, but that may not be the best way to win her back,” Ron said hesitantly.  
  
Harry stood there, motionless. Hermione bit her lip.  
  
“Just give it time Harry, I’m sure things will sort out,” Hermione suggested earnestly, trying to help. "She can't avoid you the rest of the school year," she added hesitantly.   
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Harry sighed. “I’m done trying to make things right."

* * *

And so, that was that. News traveled around the school that Harry and Elle had broken up.   
  
Lots of girls appeared to be delighted about this, and soon Harry found himself being asked out at least five times a day by giggling girls he didn’t even know the names of. Not that Harry took pleasure in this; he didn’t even notice the disappointed looks on their faces when he shook his head no. Elle always looked at the girls walking away from Harry as if they disgusted her.  
  
Not that Elle wasn’t receiving plenty attention herself. Now that the word had gotten out that she was single, boys who hadn’t bothered to get to know her before were now standing in line to introduce themselves and offer to carry her books. Seamus in particular always took the chance to open doors for her and fetch her things. Whenever Harry noticed the hordes of boys surrounding her, he balled his hands into fists, but wisely kept his distance.  
  
Needless to say, both remained alone. And even though Elle remained friendly with them, she separated herself from Ron and Hermione, leaving the original Golden Trio to themselves.  
  
It was as if nothing had ever changed, Harry supposed. Other than the fact that it felt like a huge chunk of his heart was missing. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, and he loved hanging out with them, but the two were still a couple, and that meant Harry had to deal with being pushed to the side a lot whenever they felt like kissing or holding hands. Which was very often.  
  
Harry oftentimes found himself shut up in his dormitory, leafing through Elle’s book of fairy tales that she had given him on his birthday. He didn’t usually read the tales, but for some reason flicking through the pages made him feel closer to Elle. Fingering the gold edges, thumbing through the chapters she had bookmarked as her favorites (The Frog Prince, Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel)- he could almost imagine a twelve-year-old Elle doing the same thing, curled up in bed with the heavy tome and reading the tales aloud to her stuffed animals...after all, she had told him she used to do that.   
  
Elle had been right- she shared every detail of her personal life with Harry. He was only now learning that he should have done the same.   
  
Harry also had the N.E.W.T exams to keep him occupied. As they reached the middle of February, reality sank in that there were only a few months left to get completely prepared. Not to mention, all Seventh Year students had begun receiving apparating lessons every weekend down in Hogsmeade, where Professor Lupin taught them in a large room at the back of the Three Broomsticks.  
  
In one class, Neville disappeared for almost an hour, and nobody seemed to be able to know where he went. Finally, he reappeared at the end of class, wet and disheveled and trying to explain to Lupin that he had wound up in the middle of a swimming pool somewhere near London. Malfoy nearly wet himself laughing. Harry and Ron gave him menacing looks.  
  
Everybody else seemed to be apparating all right, and at the end of their eighth lesson Lupin announced that they had all passed, and would be ready to take the official apparating exam at the Ministry of Magic when they finished school.  
  
Sometime around the middle of March, the Professors made an announcement to all seventh years: the good news was, their classes would be cut down to only two per day. The bad news was, each class would be an hour and a half longer than usual. The Professors said this was to better prepare them for their June examinations, and that the students needed more class time to gain all the information that they needed. So, despite all the groaning and moaning, the Seventh Years made their way to their first extended Transfiguration class, which they would be sharing with the Slytherins. There they were faced with their hardest lesson yet: turning wardrobes into watermelons.  
  
As was becoming the norm, Elle entered the class late, and Harry tried not to look as she passed by his desk. McGonagall shook her head.  
  
“That’ll be a detention, Miss Levine,” she said, checking something off on a piece of parchment.  
  
Elle sighed. “Really?” she asked, though she didn’t seem surprised.  
  
McGonagall looked at her sternly. “You’ve nearly missed at least six classes within the last two months, and when you do decide to grace us with your presence, you’re always late! It’s about time you receive some discipline. Your education is important, especially now. You need to be here, on time, every day.”  
  
At that moment, Malfoy walked in late as well, strutting through the doors as though he owned the place and swinging his bag from his shoulders.  
  
McGonagall’s nostrils flared. “Same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy,” she remarked, again checking the piece of parchment.  
  
He looked up, confused. “What?”  
  
“Mr. Malfoy, you are more than twenty minutes late, and that is unacceptable. Detention for you and Miss Levine, Friday evening at seven in my classroom. Do you think you can make it on time for that?”  
  
“I’ll do my best,” Malfoy answered with a straight face. Elle stifled a laugh, and McGonagall’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“Well, you had better,” she responded nastily. “Now get to your seats and start working, you’re behind enough as it is.”  
  
Elle and Malfoy exchanged exasperated looks before going to their separate desks and sitting down. Ron caught Harry’s gaze and mouthed “Detention with Malfoy?”  
  
Harry shrugged and lowered his eyes. Not speaking to Elle was bad enough, but now she and Malfoy were going to be stuck in detention together? Alone? He thought back to what had happened in their shared detention, so long ago, and shuddered. He didn’t know how much more of this he could bear.  
  
Nonetheless, that Friday, Elle made her way to McGonagall’s classroom at exactly seven. When she arrived, Draco was already there, and McGonagall was waiting for her. Elle slowly entered the room and took a seat, leaning back and studying her nails. Draco was looking around the room with a bored expression, his hands shoved in his pockets.  
  
McGonagall handed them each a quill and a sheet of parchment.

“You are to sit here for three hours, and come up with a decent essay on the history of Transfiguration. When you are done, you may sit quietly until time is up. I will be down the hall, and if I hear any noise coming from this room, you both will be looking forward to another detention tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
Elle and Draco nodded, Elle noting dimly that wandless magic would be no use in writing an essay. McGonagall left the room, slamming the door behind her. With a sigh, Elle took out a Transfiguration textbook from her bag and opened it, flipping through the pages. After about five minutes, Draco deemed to do the same, and the room became enveloped in silence, with exception to the occasional sounds of turning pages and scratching quills.  
  
This went on for about an hour, until Draco sat back in his seat, threw down his quill, and started rummaging through his bag. Elle looked over at him curiously.  
  
“What are you doing?” she asked, even though she knew they weren’t supposed to talk.  
  
Draco didn’t answer. He brought out a small, silver flask, uncorked the top, and brought it to his lips. He took a long, leisurely sip, smacked his lips together, and screwed the lid back on. Then he tossed the flask over to Elle.  
  
She caught the small bottle with outstretched hands and examined it closely. “Firewhisky?” she guessed. “I’ve tasted it before, you know.”  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you have,” he said.  
  
Elle shrugged, unscrewed the lid, and poured a little into her mouth without touching the flask to her lips. Whatever it was, it had a strong, bitter taste to it. 

“It’s alright,” she said, tossing the bottle back to him.  
  
Draco stared at her. “You should know better than to take drinks from strangers,” he said darkly.  
  
Elle gave him a look. “But then again, you’re not exactly a stranger, are you?” she replied. “You better put that away before McGonagall comes back.”  
  
“Since when did you care about getting into trouble?” he asked, with a little smirk.  
  
Elle shot him a glare. “I don’t want detention every day.”  
  
His smirk widened. “Someone’s a little touchy after breaking up with their boyfriend.”  
  
Elle’s eyes narrowed. “I am not touchy!”  
  
“You’re not?” he objected in mock surprise.  
  
Elle let out a deep breath. “Just leave me alone,” she said quietly, picking up her quill and averting her eyes to her textbook once more.  
  
“Fine,” Draco said, holding his hands up in surrender. He picked up his quill, but didn’t start writing. Instead, he occupied himself by flicking the edge of the quill against the desk, causing it to make a sharp, annoying sound each time.  
  
Elle gritted her teeth in aggravation, willing him with her mind to stop. But when the sound kept occurring, Elle let out a big sigh of aggravation.  
  
“Can you stop?” she shouted furiously. “Are you a child?”  
  
Draco grinned. “Why, does it bother you?” he asked casually, continuing his incessant flicking of the quill.  
  
Elle angrily stood up and snapped her fingers. The quill zoomed out of his hand and into her fingers. A second later, she snapped the quill in half, and threw the remaining bits on the floor before sitting back down and returning to her work.  
  
Draco continued to stare at her. “Such a temper. No wonder Potter dumped you.”  
  
Elle was filled with fury. “He didn’t dump me!” she yelled. “And it’s none of your business anyway!”  
  
“It’s too bad really,” Draco went on sarcastically, as if Elle hadn’t even spoken. “You two made such a cute couple. I’m going to miss the feeling of wanting to puke every time you two walked by…”  
  
Elle’s face tightened. “Oh, I’m sure Ginny would be thrilled to hear that,” she remarked slyly, continuing to flip through the pages of the textbook.  
  
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
She gave him an exasperated stare. “It’s obvious that you like her. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re afraid it will destroy your reputation.”  
  
“Just because she’s the only person in this school I bother to talk to does not mean that I like her,” Draco sneered. “She’s a poor, pathetic blood traitor.”  
  
“And you’re a rich, anti-social snob,” Elle retorted.  
  
“You don’t know anything about me,” Draco said dangerously.  
  
Elle chewed on her lip, preparing to say her next statement with caution. “I know that life has been cruel to you,” she said slowly. “And I know that bad things have happened that you can’t change, but that’s no reason to shut out the world. It’s fine if you don’t want to admit to liking her, but you shouldn’t call her names.”  
  
“Oh, like you’ve never called people names before?” Draco challenged her accusingly.  
  
Elle sighed. “I’ve never went around calling people blood traitors,” she replied.  
  
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but stopped when he heard hurried footsteps. He stuffed the silver flask back inside his bag just as McGonagall stuck her head through the door.  
  
She looked at them forbiddingly. “I heard shouting coming from this room. What’s going on here?” she demanded.  
  
“Nothing, Professor,” Elle said quietly, looking down at her lap.  
  
McGonagall peered at her suspiciously, and then checked the time. “You two have an hour and fifteen minutes left,” she announced. “I want those essays finished.” She slammed the door closed once more, and the room seemed to tremble with force.  
  
 _Wow_ , Elle thought.  _She must hate us._ She thought back to how many times she had spoken out of turn in McGonagall’s lessons, and covered her face in shame. Her parents would be furious with her. Since when did she become known as the attention-seeker at school?  
  
The rest of the detention was spent in silence. When they were finally released, they both handed in their completed essays and left the classroom. Elle and Malfoy walked down the corridors together, without speaking, until they reached the point where they had to split to go to their separate dormitories.  
  
Elle glanced at Draco, and he gave her a little nod.

“See you later,” he grumbled, before turning on his heel and heading for the dungeons.  
  
“Don’t worry!” Elle called after him, before climbing the stairs. “I won’t tell anyone that you like Ginny.”  
  
And before he could shout something back to her, she flew up the steps and was gone.

* * *

“My Lord,” a voice rang out.

“Damien,” Voldemort nodded, as the young man entered the room. “You bring more news?”  
  
“Yes,” Damien replied. “I have just returned from Hogwarts. Potter and the girl have had some sort of argument, and are no longer speaking.”  
  
“Their anger will wear off,” Voldemort said, with an inexplicable certainty. “And once it does, we’ll be ready. I have already begun preparations for the potion.”  
  
“Already?” asked Damien in surprise. “How long until the potion is complete?”  
  
“We must have patience,” Voldemort said calmly. “A plan such as this cannot afford to be rushed, and we must be extremely careful that all the ingredients are precise.” His eyes flashed. “Now Damien, you’ve mentioned that Dumbledore’s been training his students to sword fight?”  
  
Damien nodded, and Voldemort laughed menacingly. “Their weapons will be useless once we have the girl’s powers.”  
  
Damien cleared his throat hesitantly. “Master, may I ask when…”  
  
“When the time comes,” Voldemort said testily. Damien flinched.  
  
“I have waited all my life to destroy Harry Potter,” he said, in a low voice. “Do you think I’m going to risk my plans for your eager haste?”  
  
Damien shook his head, and Voldemort straightened up, his calm restored.  
  
“Excellent,” he murmured, turning away from Damien and walking to the opposite end of the room. “By the way,” he said, over his shoulder. “Where were you over the holidays? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on them.”  
  
“I apologize, my Lord, but the girl’s cousin wanted me to stay with her. If I hadn’t, she would have followed me.” He swallowed hard. “She is already suspicious enough as it is.”  
  
Voldemort nodded. “Then the time has come to be rid of her,” he said. He looked Damien in the eye. “Kill her,” he commanded.  
  
“Yes, Master,” he acquiesced.  
  
“Do not worry,” Voldemort spoke, as Damien was on his way out. “Things will be much easier once they are out of school. Dumbledore won’t be able to watch over them forever.”  
  
Damien nodded, and in the next second, had disappeared from sight.

* * *

The next few months at Hogwarts flew by. Soon talk had dwindled from Harry and Elle’s big breakup, and conversation among the Seventh Years was directed more towards life after Hogwarts. From the sound of it, most people were planning on taking jobs or internships at the Ministry, and others expressed interest in studying to become Healers for St. Mungo’s. Harry, Ron, and Hermione discussed many different ideas, ranging from Quidditch player (Harry’s idea), Hogwarts Professor (Hermione’s idea), and wizard shop owner (Ron’s idea).  
  
But in the end, after many arguments and discussions, they all decided that the one thing they most wanted was to become Aurors. They could begin their training in the fall, assuming they passed their N.E.W.T and apparating exams. They also figured that they could always change their minds, since there was no law saying they had to pick a profession right then and there. It was just good to have a basic plan. After all, some people still had no idea what they wanted to do.  
  
Like Elle. Harry doubted whether she even cared what was going to happen to her after graduation, especially now that she was late to so many classes. Harry knew that McGonagall was forcing her to take remedial night classes, since she knew of her ambition to be an Auror, but he could see that her heart wasn't in it.

He also noticed that her current sour mood seemed to be affecting her wandless magic- she had started bringing her wand to class again, and hadn't pointed a finger in ages. He felt guilty about having something to with that, but then again, he wasn't entirely to blame.  
  
Harry figured that she would probably move back to California, since she seemed to love it there so much, but he didn’t dare ask her. He remembered back to last summer, when the two of them had been happily talking about moving in together. Their future had sounded so bright, so full of happiness, but now Harry felt that without Elle, his future would be miserable…even if he did become an Auror.  
  
His heart burned just glancing in Elle’s direction, and he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He had been sure that their breakup wouldn’t last this long, especially when it was all over some stupid mistake and a few harsh words. Sure, what happened between them had been painful, but wasn’t their love strong enough to overpower that?  
  
They weren’t the only ones who were clueless about what lay beyond Hogwarts. Malfoy also had no idea what he was going to do. True, he had inherited a large sum of money from his father, but he had no idea what to do with it. He supposed he could just purchase a huge estate somewhere and live out his life in solitary misery, but was that really what was to become of him? He was a Malfoy, and a Slytherin! That wasn’t how they lived! He deserved a better life than the kind he grew up with. And he was determined to get it, one way or another.  
  
While Harry, Elle, and Malfoy were lost in their own thoughts about the future, the rest of the school seemed to be occupied in other matters. Quidditch season wrapped up, with Gryffindor winning the cup once again. As Harry gazed around the Quidditch field, holding up the enormous silver trophy in triumph, he was struck with the sudden realization that he would probably never fly on this field again. He gripped his Firebolt and relished in memories, only to have his thoughts shattered by the sight of Elle walking gloomily back to the castle, away from the shouts and cheers on the field. Harry swallowed hard and lowered the trophy, suddenly not in the mood to celebrate.  
  
In addition to the end of Quidditch, classes were also coming to a close. The week before exams signaled the end of all lessons for the Seventh Years. As Harry sat through his last Potions class, he couldn’t help feeling slightly happy, an emotion he had never experienced in one of Snape’s classes before. And as the bell rang, he couldn’t resist letting out a little whoop as he walked out of the dismal dungeon forever. No longer was he Snape’s student, and no longer was he obliged to take orders from the man he loathed. He was free.  
  
Harry went through similar emotions on the last day of his other classes, and felt the same feeling of relief as his sense of freedom grew every time he walked out of the classroom doors. The only classes he discovered he would sincerely miss were Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. McGonagall, though extremely strict, and Lupin, had both become teachers he found he admired and greatly respected.  
  
Dumbledore informed them in their last Order meeting of the school year that meetings and sword fighting lessons would continue at Headquarters, and that they’d be alerted when the time came for the next meeting. Thankfully, they had all learned a great deal, and were quickly becoming experts on the art of attacking and defending themselves with those deadly weapons.  
  
At long last, the first day of their N.E.W.T examinations arrived in June. Hermione was only one of many students who were quaking with nerves, and she couldn’t seem to calm down no matter how many times Harry and Ron assured her she’d do fine.  
  
Harry was strangely relaxed about taking the exams; he figured that after all he’d been through, the N.E.W.T’s should be a piece of cake. Besides, thanks to all his professors and extended classes, he was more than ready for them.  
  
The written portions of the test were to be done first, so one June morning the Seventh Years filed into the Great Hall, where the tables were set up just like during their O.W.L.’s in Fifth Year. It was one to a table, and Harry took a seat at a table right across from Ron and right in front of Hermione. Coincidentally, Elle took the seat at the table right in front of Harry, forcing him to stare at the back of her head throughout the entire exam. He wished more than ever that he could perform Legilimancy.    
  
Since their first subject was Charms, Professor Flitwick handed out the tests and cheat-resistant quills, and then finally signaled for them to start by turning over a giant hourglass. The sounds of quills scratching ruthlessly against the parchment immediately filled the Great Hall, and Harry could hear Hermione muttering “Yes, of course” as she bent over her table and began to write. He could also see Elle twisting her hair around her finger, and writing slowly with the other hand.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, looked down at the first question, and picked up his quill. The answers flew from his brain onto the page, and he finally felt that all these years at Hogwarts seemed to have, at last, proved worthwhile. He hoped his last exam wouldn't end in another searing vision of a loved one in distress, and decided right then and there just to ignore it if it did. Anyway, it had been so long since Voldemort had entered his mind. Unless he had a secret spy keeping watch over them, Harry had nothing to worry about.    
  
Their exams lasted two long weeks, with their written tests in the morning and practical examinations in the afternoon, with an hour in between for lunch every day. Never on one single test did Harry feel confused or baffled, and on the contrary surprised himself by knowing almost every answer to every question. By the time their last exam ended, he felt truly optimistic indeed.  
  
All the Seventh Years cheered with joy as they exited the room in which they had just finished their practical for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lupin gave Harry a comforting nod and a wink, which could only mean that Harry had just definitely passed. The trio traipsed outside and collapsed with relief under the large beech tree near the lake, laying on top of the grass in exhaustive content.  
  
Harry stretched his arms over his head and sighed. He wished with all his heart that Elle could be lying next to him. If they were still together, they would certainly be celebrating the end of exams.  
  
Without warning, a sudden lump caught in his throat. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t happy. He couldn’t he be happy when Elle was standing only a few feet in front of him, but didn’t bother glancing his way. He wondered what it would be like in a week when he got off the train at King’s Cross Station, and watched Elle walk out of his life forever.  
  
He sat up, burying his face in his hands. It killed him that there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do to get her back. He had screwed up, and now time was slipping away. As soon as school ended, he would never see her again.  
  
Ron looked over at Harry. “Hey, cheer up,” he said. “The exams are over, remember? We’re supposed to be happy!”  
  
Harry just shook his head. Hermione looked at him sympathetically.  
  
“It’s Elle, isn’t it?” she asked gently.  
  
“I can’t help it,” Harry said, turning around to face them. “I’m still in love with her, and it’s driving me mad! I think about her every bloody day and night! What’s wrong with me?”  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry hurriedly interrupted with, “Don’t say it will all work out!”  
  
“I wasn’t going to!” Hermione exclaimed, but fell silent.  
  
Harry sighed and stood up. “It’s no use,” he muttered. “In another week, she’ll be gone forever.”  
  
“Where are you going?” Ron asked.  
  
Harry didn’t answer. He walked back towards the castle in sudden anger, ignoring all the cheers and shouts directed his way. No matter what Ron and Hermione tried to say, they wouldn’t be able to make things better. No one could.  
  
Hermione looked on sadly as Harry walked away, and then turned to Ron.  
  
“You’re his best friend,” she pleaded with Ron, who looked as concerned as she felt. “Do _something_.”  
  


* * *

The next week was filled with countless end of the year parties and celebrations, but Elle didn’t feel like taking part in any of them. She knew that after this week, she would probably never see Ron, Hermione, and Harry again. But as much as she would miss them, she couldn’t handle being around them; if they did talk to her, she feared she’d end up having a nervous breakdown.

One good thing had happened, however. She had finally decided that the best thing to do after leaving Hogwarts was fly back to California. She hadn’t a clue as to what she was going to do once she got there, but maybe she could bunk with Ally, and try and find a job. It was the best that she could come up with, but after all, she was only seventeen…how was she supposed to know what to do with her life?  
  
Elle sighed. She had gone down into the common room, tired of hiding in the dormitory, but since it was the eve of the graduation ceremony, the Gryffindors were throwing a huge party, and so the common room was packed and noisy. Tomorrow would be their last full day in school. The morning after graduation would be time for them to leave.  
  
Elle sat in a corner by herself and stared dismally out of the tower window. She had brought her golden butterfly down with her, and had let it out of its cage. For the moment, it was fluttering around her head leaving its usual trail of sparkly dust. Outside, the sky was growing dark, and she could hear the ominous sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. Storm clouds had been threatening the skies for the whole week, but it had yet to rain.  
  
She tried working on her wandless magic, inconspicuously so that no one would notice, but it didn't work too well. Even levitating simple objects was difficult; ever since her and Harry broke up, her magic just wasn't the same. Even her Patronus had changed, though she would never dare tell Harry that. The tiger she had usually produced had inexplicably shown up as a doe in the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical examination. She thought she saw Lupin give her a knowing look when it sprang out of her wand. She sighed; she knew Patronuses could change due to strong emotions- her parents’ Patronuses always took the forms of a male and female lion.   
  
She continued to observe the people in the room, all gathered in little clumps and laughing and talking as though they couldn’t be happier about going off to bigger and better things. Elle closed her eyes and felt the sadness that had tormented her ever since she and Harry broke up spill over her, even though Harry was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Elle hugged her legs to her chest, and rested her head on top of her knees. She wished nothing more than to disappear.  
  
Ron spotted her out of the corner of his eye. He looked around for Hermione, but she was over by the fireplace chatting animatedly with Ginny and Neville. Ron cleared his throat, excused himself from his conversation with Seamus and Dean, and went over to where Elle was sitting.  
  
“Hey,” he said.  
  
Elle jumped and stared at him as though she had never seen him before, and then gave a hesitant smile.  
  
“I haven’t talked to you in a while,” Ron said lightheartedly.  
  
“Hi Ron,” Elle said, in attempted cheerfulness. “Yeah, it’s been a long time! What’s up?”  
  
Ron shrugged. “Oh you know, the usual. Exams go okay?”  
  
Elle chewed on her lip. She had no idea what "usual" meant, but was too afraid to ask. “I think so, you?”  
  
Ron grinned. “I don’t want to jinx it, but thanks to Hermione, I feel okay about them.”  
  
Elle smiled. She forgot how fun it was to have a normal conversation with a close friend. “How is Hermione, anyway?”  
  
“Well, she’s not a complete mental case anymore, now that exams are over,” Ron quipped. Him and Elle both laughed, and while the laughter felt good, it died down quickly.

Elle knew she had to ask the question that she was burning to ask, the question they both knew was coming.   
  
“And, um…how’s Harry?” she asked cautiously.  
  
Ron sighed and looked away. “Miserable,” he replied, watching Elle’s reaction closely. “He misses you a lot, you know. We all do.”  
  
Elle nodded. “I miss you guys too," she admitted. "I miss  _him_  too,” she whispered after a short pause, but then caught herself. She instantly scowled and shook her head. “But that can't be true. If Harry misses me so much, then why did he kiss Parvati and take Lavender's side during our argument?”  
  
Ron shook his head. “No offense Elle, but you’ve got that all wrong,” he explained. “Harry never meant for that to happen. Parvati kind of took advantage of him. Besides, he’s just not that type of person.” He looked at her pointedly. “You should have known that.”  
  
Elle lowered her eyes in shame. She did know that, but at the time, her emotions had gotten the better of her.

“But all those things he said to me…” she trailed off, trying to remember exactly what it was that had made her so mad.  
  
“People tend to say things that they don’t mean,” Ron told her calmly. “And as I recall, you said some pretty hurtful things yourself.”  
  
“I know,” Elle whispered. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “Ugh, I am such an idiot!” she cried, her voice muffled.  
  
Ron laughed. “You’re not an idiot,” he said gently. “But you need to know something. Harry is still in love with you.”  
  
Elle looked up at Ron with wide eyes. “Really?” she asked, her face lighting up.  
  
Ron nodded. He watched her for a few moments as she registered this information. Then finally, after what seemed like forever, Elle decided to give in.  
  
“I’m in love with him too,” she said softly, staring off into the distance. The butterfly fluttered down and landed on her shoulder.  
  
Ron grinned. “Then you should tell him,” he said wisely. “Before it's too late, and we all leave. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”  
  
Elle laughed and stood up, giving Ron a hug. “I think I will tell him. Thanks, Ron,” she whispered into his ear. “You’re a good friend. I owe you one.”  
  
She restored the butterfly to its jar and stood back, looking around the common room. “Where is he?” she asked breathlessly, handing Ron the jar for safekeeping. Her heart was beating a little faster than usual.  
  
“I think he went outside,” Ron answered, as more thunderclaps sounded from beyond the castle walls. “But it’s raining, you might want to wait…”  
  
Elle barely heard him. Without another thought, she raced across the room and was out of the portrait hole in a flash. She ignored everyone and kept running through the castle, not caring who she barged into, and didn’t stop until she reached the doors leading out onto the grounds.  
  
She pushed them open, and gasped. It was pouring. Rain came down in torrents, and the sky was covered in dark, ugly clouds. Elle hesitated for a moment, but then took a deep breath, and ran into the rain.  
  
Immediately soaked, her hair dripped down her shoulders and her jeans, tank top, and hoodie stuck to her skin. She scanned the grounds, wiping the rain out of her eyes, but couldn’t find Harry anywhere. Getting a sudden idea, she ran towards Hagrid’s hut far across the other side of the grounds, near the Forbidden Forest, where Harry had once carried her in his arms.  
  
She slammed her fist against his door, hoping he could hear her against the downpour. “Hagrid!” she shouted, knocking fiercely.  
  
The door flew open, and Hagrid glanced down at her in surprise. “Look at yeh, yer soaked!” he exclaimed, widening the door so that she could come in. But Elle didn’t move.  
  
“Is Harry here?” she asked desperately.  
  
Hagrid shook his head. “Las’ I saw he was flyin’ around on his broomstick,” he replied. “Now get in before yeh get sick…”  
  
But she was already gone, racing as fast as she could toward the Quidditch Pitch. When she got there, she immediately turned her head upward and saw…nothing. She twirled around, searching the skies, but Harry wasn’t there.  
  
She was about to go and look in the changing rooms when she suddenly caught sight of a wet, downtrodden figure trudging back up to the castle, with a broomstick in his hand. His head was down, but Elle knew in an instant that it was him. Her heart lurched, and she shouted with all her might, “HARRY POTTER!”  
  
Harry stopped in his tracks and whipped around, looking about frantically. It couldn’t be her. Why would she be out in the pouring rain, looking for him?   
  
But there she was, standing in the middle of the Quidditch field.  
  
“ELLE?” he shouted back.  
  
She ran towards him and then stopped as she stood in front of him. Harry was so confused that he took a step back and dropped his Firebolt.  
  
“What…?” he managed to squeeze out, but Elle shook her head quickly.  
  
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she cried, tears running down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. “I’m so, so terribly sorry. This is all my fault. You were right all along, about everything, about me. I’m sorry, I…”  
  
“Wait a minute,” Harry said. Rain was beating down on his shoulders, and he couldn’t see properly since his glasses were fogging up. He took them off, wiped them on his sleeve, and put them back on. Elle was still there, staring at him, waiting for a response he wasn’t entirely prepared to give.  
  
“Do you mean to tell me,” he said finally. “That after avoiding me for months, you’ve suddenly decided to say you’re sorry?”  
  
Elle looked him in the eyes. “I was wrong, okay? You were right, I am just a little, undeserving, attention-seeking creep.” She looked down. “I realize now that what happened with Parvati wasn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t have blamed you for it. But I couldn’t help it, I just got so furious with you, and after the fight we had, I couldn’t help feeling like that was your way of telling me you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”  
  
Harry looked at her in disbelief. “Elle, how can you say that?” he asked incredulously. “You should know that I would never do that to you! I love you!”  
  
“I love you too,” she replied, her heart giving a relieved flutter at these words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t react very well to your news about the prophecy.” She lowered her gaze again. “But you probably hate my guts now,” she said. “I know I would if I was you.”  
  
Harry shook his head, and took her face in his hands. “I don’t hate your guts,” he said, with a small grin. “And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said that Lavender was right about you. You’re not careless and attention-seeking.”  
  
Elle gave him a look. Harry laughed.  
  
“Okay, so maybe you are a little bit,” he teased. “But that’s what I love about you. There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”  
  
“Really?” Elle asked, self-consciously.  
  
“Really,” Harry confirmed. “If I had someone who was serious all the time, then what fun is that?”  
  
Elle laughed and hugged him, pressing her face tightly into his shoulder. “I’m going to change, Harry, I promise. I’m going to be more serious, and I’m going to stand by you, whether you fulfill this damn prophecy or not.”  
  
Harry held onto her waist protectively.  
  
“Please don’t feel like you have to change for me,” he said softly. “I’m the one who needs to change. I promise, from now on, I will share every personal thing about me, anything you’d like to know.”

Elle laughed again and shook her head. “Okay, let’s not change  _everything_  right away, shall we?”   
  
“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you laugh,” Harry murmured.  
  
“I know,” she replied. She raised her head. “I’m sorry I waited so long.”  
  
“Will you stop apologizing?” Harry said, grinning even more broadly. “I was just afraid I would never get to see you again!”  
  
They locked eyes, and Elle kissed him. It was the most heartfelt kiss they ever shared, and he kissed her back eagerly. They stayed like that for a long time, so consumed by love and forgiveness that they barely noticed the torrential rain. All the hatred and anger and resentment seemed to vanish within that one single kiss.  
  
“Hey, what are you two doing out here?” a voice called from outside the castle doors.  
  
Harry and Elle broke apart. Ron and Hermione were standing together, looking out at them with surprised, but happy looks on their faces. Harry and Elle grinned.  
  
“Are you two nuts? It’s raining like mad! Get in here!” Hermione called.  
  
Harry and Elle shared amused looks, before Harry picked up his Firebolt. They ran towards the warmth of the castle, holding hands the entire time.

* * *

Hours later, after the end-of-year party had long ended, the four of them sat alone in the common room laughing and acting silly, enjoying their last few hours of worry-free life. Harry had never felt better.  
  
He and Elle were sitting side by side next to the fireplace, holding hands and stealing kisses every couple of minutes. It felt so good to have her back, and Harry never wanted them to be apart again. He was sure that Elle felt the same way as she leaned in and kissed him again, running a hand tenderly through his hair.  
  
They had changed out of their wet clothes. Harry and Elle were both in loose pants and jumpers. She had magically dried her hair, and as Harry watched her laughing and chatting with Ron and Hermione, he thought that she had never looked more amazing. Her green eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were tinted a cheerful, rosy red, and she looked happier than she had in ages. Her hands glowed brightly.   
  
Harry squeezed her shimmering hand, and she squeezed back, leaning her head against him with a content sigh and letting her hair fall over his shoulder.  
  
“It feels so good to be talking to you all again,” Elle said warmly. “I’m sorry I avoided you for so long.”  
  
“Forget about it,” Hermione replied, smiling. “We’re just glad you’re back. We all missed you.”  
  
“Excellent timing too,” Ron piped up. “Two days before we leave.”  
  
They all laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m dumb,” Elle sighed.  
  
“True,” Harry said. “But we love you anyway.”  
  
Elle pushed him, and Harry pushed playfully back. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks and sighed.  
  
“Yup, things are back to normal,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.  
  
But Harry didn’t want things to be back to normal. He wanted things to be better than normal.  
  
A sudden thought had formed quickly in Harry’s mind, something that he needed to do now, at this very moment, and he couldn’t let it go. He just knew that he couldn’t lose Elle again; not now, when he realized how torturous life was without her. He couldn’t let another argument destroy everything. He was in love with her, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Now he had to know if she wanted to do the same.  
  
Harry swallowed hard and stood up, before walking over to the boy’s staircase. Elle stared at him, confused.  
  
“Where are you going?” she asked, tilting her head and grinning.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Harry said to her, before running up the stairs.  
  
He burst through the dormitory door and searched under his bed, looking for the bag that contained his jewelry store purchase from so many months ago. He finally located it and took out the little black velvet box, which held inside a small, modest diamond ring. He stashed the box inside his pocket and raced back down the stairs, arriving back in the common room exhilarated and out of breath.  
  
Elle smiled at him and stood up as he entered. “What’s going on?” she asked, perplexed by his breathless state.  
  
“Elle, I need to, uh, ask you a question,” he said quietly, looking frantically towards Ron and Hermione. “I think I’ve given it enough time.”   
  
Ron raised his eyebrows, and Harry quickly nodded. He didn’t know if Ron had spotted the ring in his hand, or if it was just intuition, but Ron instantly understood what Harry meant to do, and nudged Hermione to follow him out of the room.  
  
Hermione and Ron left up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, leaving Harry and Elle alone in front of the fire. Elle looked even more confused, and nervously started playing with her hair.  
  
“You wanted to ask me something?” she stated uneasily. Harry looked so serious that she was afraid something horrible had happened.  
  
Harry nodded. He looked a little nervous as well.

“Sit down,” he told her gently, motioning to the softest chair by the fireplace.  
  
Elle sat, and looked up at him. Harry kneeled, and took her hands in his, feeling the heat from the flames warm his skin and give him confidence. He took a deep breath.  
  
Elle looked at him, puzzled, as if she couldn’t comprehend why Harry was kneeling on the floor.

“What is it?” she asked, squeezing his hands.  
  
“Elle,” he began. “I want you to know, I fell in love with you from the moment I first laid eyes on you. Even when we were fighting. And I know this might sound stupid, but you’re the only person I can act like a complete idiot around and know that it doesn’t matter.”  
  
Elle peered at him suspiciously. Was this a joke? Some sort of revenge that he had secretly been planning all this time while he pretended to forgive her?

“Harry, I don’t understand what this is all about…”  
  
“Elle,” Harry insisted, a little more calmly and with a little more assurance. “I want to stay with you for the rest of my life.” He slowly let go of Elle’s hands and took out the small, velvet box from inside his pocket. “That is, if you’re willing to put up with me.”   
  
Elle squinted at the box. “You’re not hiding a stink bomb in there, are you?”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, smiling, but exasperated, and opened the box, revealing the small and glittering diamond ring embellished on a silver band.  
  
Elle took one look at the ring and gasped. Her wide eyes traveled to Harry’s, as she finally seemed to grasp what was going on.  
  
“Oh my God” she whispered, her heart thumping faster than ever.  
  
“I know this might seem crazy,” Harry continued, his green eyes shining with mischievous excitement, “And that we’re both way too young, but I don’t care.”  
  
He took out the ring, and held it between his fingers. Elle’s breath caught in her throat. She gazed back at Harry, wanting him to laugh and say that it was all a trick, but his expression didn’t waver.  
  
“Danielle Levine,” he stated. “Will you marry me?”  
  
Elle’s heart practically stopped as a million different thoughts flooded into her brain.  _Harry had just proposed_.

It didn’t seem real. She briefly wondered if she was dreaming. She looked at Harry and he gazed back at her expectantly, childishly, waiting for her answer.  
  
Elle opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“Are you nuts?” she managed to finally cry out.  
  
Harry frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”  
  
“You do know we’re only seventeen, right?”  
  
Harry shrugged. “I know,” he replied, fidgeting a little from his position on the floor. “But not forever.”  
  
She stared at him in disbelief for a few moments, before regaining control of her senses. “You’re probably waiting for an answer, aren’t you?” she asked, exasperated.   
  
“That would be helpful,” Harry replied anxiously. “This position is getting uncomfortable. And your answer is?”  
  
Elle couldn’t help laughing. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gathered every ounce of courage she had. She then opened her eyes once more, smiled at Harry, and said, “Yes.”  
  
Harry blinked, and then a wide smile spread over his face.

“Really?” he asked. “You mean it?”  
  
Elle nodded, still smiling, and then wordlessly held out her hand. Harry took it and, with his hands slightly trembling, gently slid the ring onto her finger.  
  
She gazed at it for a moment with misty eyes, before throwing her arms around Harry, nearly knocking him over. Harry stood up and twirled her around, feeling as if he might burst from happiness. This morning, Harry had thought that Elle would never speak to him again, and now they were going be together forever.  
  
Ron and Hermione cautiously came down the stairs, wondering whether they were welcome or not.  
  
“Everything alright?” Ron asked, grinning broadly at the sight of them. “Can we come back down?”  
  
Harry and Elle nodded, both of their foreheads pressed together, and their identical green eyes sparkling. Ron and Hermione settled themselves in front of the fire, watching them expectantly.  
  
“Well?” Ron asked.  
  
Harry grinned broadly. “She said yes!” he exclaimed.  
  
Hermione gasped in delight. “I can’t believe you two are engaged! But you’re both so young! Oh, but I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!” She jumped up and gave each of them a hug.  
  
“Congratulations, mate,” Ron said, thumping Harry on the back. He reached down to hug Elle too, and muttered, “You still owe me one.”   
  
Elle laughed, and gave him a wink.  
  
“Thanks,” Harry said gratefully to his friends.  
  
“We’ll leave you two alone now,” Ron said, gently taking Hermione’s hand.  
  
“Goodnight,” Hermione told them, her eyes slightly tearing up. “Don’t stay up too late. Remember, we still have the graduation ceremony tomorrow.”  
  
“We remember,” Elle said happily. “Goodnight.”  
  
Once Ron and Hermione had left again, Harry wrapped his arms around Elle. Elle locked eyes with him, and smiled lovingly.  
  
“We’re really going to get married?” she asked.  
  
“We really are,” Harry said, bending down and kissing her.  
  
"This is kind of insane, you know," Elle told him pointedly.  
  
"I know," Harry said, smiling. "But I want to marry you Elle. Like I said after the attack on Hogwarts. You're the one. The one I've been waiting for."  
  
Elle grinned. "Well," she said quietly, the silver from her ring glinting in the light from the dwindling fireplace. "You can stop waiting. I'm yours."  
  
Harry grinned again and Elle rested her hands on the back of his neck, not in any rush to go to bed. As far as she was concerned, they had all the time in the world.  
  



	31. Taking Chances

It was nearly two in the morning before they decided to part and fall asleep in their separate dormitories. Neither of them wanted to leave, but they knew that the next day was the Graduation Ceremony, and that people would be a little suspicious if they were found asleep next to each other in the common room, come morning.  
  
However, Harry found that once he was in his bed, it was nearly impossible to shut his eyes. He was on such an adrenaline rush that all his insides felt as if they were on fire. He couldn’t believe the astonishing turn of events- first, he and Elle were making up in the rain, and then he had spontaneously, but sincerely, proposed to her in the comfort of the empty common room. Now they were getting married, and Harry had never felt more exhilarated in his life.  
  
Likewise, Elle was also lying in bed, wide-awake. She felt way too excited to sleep. With one glance, her little night lamp flicked on, producing a shimmering halo of light around her bed. Raising her hand in front of her, she let the small diamond ring on her finger sparkle and glint, and couldn’t help smiling to herself as she gazed at it.  
  
Unexpectedly, an image of her parents popped into her brain. Elle’s stomach gave a small, uneasy lurch, and she wondered what her parents would have thought about their daughter getting married at the young, ridiculous age of seventeen. Of course, they would have forbidden it…and her mother would’ve probably made a joke about how this was England, not the backwoods of some traditional, southern state.   
  
But Elle couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, if they could only meet Harry, then they would fall in love with him as well. She also wondered briefly what Harry’s parents would have thought. Would they have accepted the idea of their son getting married so young? Would they have even liked her?  
  
As she continued her daydreams, Elle couldn’t help squealing with happiness just one more time. No matter what would have happened if they were alive, it didn’t change what was going to happen now. Harry was going to be her husband. Her seventeen-year-old husband.  
  
It was almost too good to be true.  
  


* * *

 

The next morning, Hermione woke rather early and glanced in Elle’s direction. Elle was fast asleep, most likely drained from an endless night of tossing and turning. Hermione couldn’t blame her, but they did have to get up and get ready if they wanted to make it to the ceremony on time.  
  
Hermione took Elle’s pillow and yanked it out from under her, trying to wake her up. Elle groaned and pulled up the covers, obscuring her body from sight.  
  
Hermione sighed. “Time to wake up, sunshine,” she said sarcastically.  
  
Elle didn’t budge. “Five more minutes,” her voice mumbled from under the sheets, barely audible.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Come on, we have to get ready!” Hermione insisted. She hated playing the role of annoying alarm clock.  
  
“I don’t care,” the same voice replied.  
  
Hermione pursed her lips and ripped the sheets off Elle, which earned immediate protests.  
  
“ _Harry_  will be waiting for you if don’t get up,” Hermione continued slyly, which instantly caused Elle to sit up.  
  
She sat cross-legged on the bed for a few moments with a content look on her face. Hermione stared at her, and Elle stared back. Then without warning they both started laughing, and Elle threw her arms around Hermione, her eyes shining happily.  
  
“Late night?” Hermione supposed.  
  
“I couldn’t fall asleep,” Elle answered. She let go of Hermione and timidly held out her hand, which Hermione instantly grabbed.  
  
“Wow,” said Hermione, gazing at the ring. “Harry definitely picked out a nice one. He knows you well.”  
  
“I know,” Elle replied, sounding a little mystified. “It’s so simple and elegant. Hermione, I’m still in shock! Did you know Harry was planning this?”  
  
Hermione frowned. “No,” she replied honestly. “Ron knew, though I am surprised he managed to keep it secret from me. But I’ve never seen Harry like this around anyone before; it’s not a complete shock he asked you to marry him.”  
  
Elle smiled. It was very important to her that Hermione gave her approval.   
  
Hermione caught her smile and gave her friend a serious look. “Elle…are you sure you’re ready for this?”  
  
Elle looked as if she were expecting this. She turned around and began to get dressed. “Of course. We’re leaving school, we’re not related, and we’re in love, so why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Hermione said slowly. “It’s just that, well, marriage is a big deal. Sure, it’s romantic and exciting, but you have to be ready to handle all the responsibility that comes with it.”  
  
Elle laughed. “Hermione, please don’t worry about it. What’s so major about a legal document and a different last name? And besides, people do it all the time.”  
  
“Yeah, older people,” Hermione said quietly, frowning. “I’m just saying that you may not realize it right now, but there’s a lot of hard work involved in marriage. And I want you to understand that this isn’t just one big fantasy. This is real, and permanent, and I want you to be absolutely sure that you’re making the right decision.”  
  
Elle turned around and faced Hermione, fully dressed. 

“I  _am_  making the right decision,” she said softly. “You have to trust me. I understand that marriage is a big step, and that I’m totally insane for wanting to jump into it so young, but Harry and I love each other and that’s all that matters. Right?”  
  
“I guess,” Hermione responded. She knew that her friend still wasn’t taking her advice seriously, but she could also tell that Elle’s mind was made up, and there was nothing more she could do.  
  
Elle beamed at her. “Great,” she said. “Now come on, let’s get out of here.”  
  


* * *

 

Harry and Ron were down in the common room, attired uncomfortably in dress robes, waiting for Elle and Hermione to emerge. The ceremony, as well as the prospect of mingling with relatives of all the Seventh Years, required that everyone look nice for the occasion.  
  
He heard giggling from the girl’s staircase, and looked up to see Elle and Hermione coming towards him, both dressed in simple sundresses (Hermione’s in white, Elle’s in pink). Both had their hair pulled back, wore strappy sandals, and had a hint of color on their rosy lips.  
  
Elle caught Harry’s eye and smiled as she jumped over the rest of the steps, landing on the floor ungracefully. She looked over the boys approvingly.  
  
“Very nice,” she appraised. “You two look totally handsome. What do you think, Hermione?”  
  
Hermione pretended to wrinkle her nose in distaste. “I’ve seen better.”  
  
“Hey!” Ron protested. He was very defensive about his history with dress robes. “It’s not like we wanted to wear these!”  
  
Hermione laughed. “Alright, alright, you look handsome. Now, can we please go?”  
  
She took Ron’s hand, and the two of them led the way out of the already vacant common room. Most everyone was already present in the Great Hall. Harry and Elle followed them, though at a distance.  
  
“So, how is my fiancée this morning?” Harry asked Elle, half-joking, half-serious.  
  
Elle felt her heartbeat quicken at the foreign term. “Just fine,” she replied, smiling and rolling her eyes. “Were you just waiting for the opportunity to use that word?”  
  
“Yup,” Harry answered, grinning.   
  
She lifted her hand as they walked, unconsciously twirling the ring around and around on her finger. She couldn’t resist looking at it- it was so beautiful, and it gave her a happy, bubbly feeling.  
  
Harry eyed her playing with the ring. “Do you reckon we should tell anybody?” he asked.  
  
Elle frowned, and immediately dropped her hand. “Why not?”  
  
“It’s just…I don’t want anyone passing unfair judgments. I mean, it will definitely come as a shock, with us being so young and everything, and…I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea of why we’re doing this.”  
  
“You’re right,” Elle replied, grinning. “But when did we start caring what people think?”  
  
Harry shrugged. “I just think we should wait until the time is right. That way, if anyone wants to share their objections, we won’t have to listen to them for long.”  
  
Elle sighed. “Okay,” she agreed. “We’ll keep it quiet.” And with that, she hid her hand behind her back.  
  
Harry grinned at her and gave her hand a squeeze.  
  
They neared the Great Hall, and as they paused outside the double doors, Harry took Elle’s other hand.  
  
“Ready?” he asked anxiously.  
  
“Ready,” Elle said confidently, squeezing his hand back.  
  
“Great,” Harry said, and smiled. “Let’s go in.”

* * *

The Great Hall was packed with students, parents, and teachers. The House Tables were gone, and in their place stood rows of plush velvet armchairs, one for every graduating Seventh Year. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Elle all snagged four front row seats and sat down, taking the time before the ceremony to people watch. They all waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were seated across the Hall.  
  
The professors were all seated majestically at the front of the Hall, the floor of which had been raised into an elevated platform. They all yelled hello to Lupin and Hagrid, who smiled and waved back at them. Snape only sat there glowering, looking as though he didn’t quite know what he was doing there. The other teachers were all present as well, including the ghostly Professor Binns and the mystical Professor Trelawney, who had deemed to come down from her isolated tower for this one special event. Harry tried his best to avoid her beady eyes.   
  
Seamus, Dean, and Neville soon entered, and sat themselves beside the four of them.  
  
“Hi guys,” Dean greeted.  
  
“Hello,” said Harry and Elle together.  
  
Seamus eyed the pair of them in all their handholding glory, and laughed. “Well, well,” he said. “You two finally got sick of screaming and fighting with each other, then?”  
  
Harry and Elle shared a grin.

“You could say that,” Harry replied. He tried to ignore the slight hint of regret he heard in Seamus' voice.   
  
“Hello Neville, dear!” came a shout from across the hall. They all turned in their seats to spot a stern old lady in a tall, ostrich-feathered hat waving a gloved hand in their direction.  
  
Neville turned a peculiar shade of plum and reluctantly waved back. “Hullo Gran,” he called, slumping in his seat while the rest of them laughed good-naturedly.  
  
Elle heard a nasty snicker come from behind, and turned in her seat to see Malfoy, who was leaning back in his chair and wearing a malicious grin. At the sight of Elle, he raised his eyebrows and glanced accusingly towards Harry, scrunching up his nose and sticking out his tongue as though he disapproved of her decision to get back together with him. Elle quickly turned back around, only to hear him laughing at her amusedly behind her back. She felt strongly like giving him the finger.   
  
It took several minutes for the Great Hall to fill up with all the Seventh Year Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. Dumbledore came in last, dressed in robes of deep purple, with his silver beard glistening against the dark fabric. As he ascended the makeshift stage, the whole hall instantly quieted down. Without further ado, he raised his wand to his throat and muttered “Sonorus.”  
  
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he announced. “Welcome. Today we are here to bid farewell to these students, and wish them luck with the rest of their adult lives. Our esteemed professors have done their very best in teaching you all everything they could, yet there is no doubt that each one of you will continue to learn, and gain wondrous amounts of knowledge, for as long as you live.”  
  
He directed his attention toward the students. “For some of you, Hogwarts has been more than just a school,” he continued. “It has been your home. And despite everything that has happened throughout the course of your seven years, and everything that is waiting to happen in the future, you will always be able to return. It is my deepest hope that all of you leave here today with magical memories and lasting friendships.”  
  
“I will try my best not to make the remainder of this ceremony exceptionally dull,” Dumbledore continued. A couple of people laughed. “When I call your name, please come forward and accept your statue of completion. Thank you.”  
  
He cleared his throat, and McGonagall came forward with a long list of names, much like she did during the Sorting Ceremony. She handed the list to Dumbledore, and he raised his wand once more to call out the first name.  
  
“Hannah Abbott!”  
  
Everybody applauded as Hannah stood and made her way to the platform, shaking hands with all the professors and accepting her statue from Dumbledore.  
  
The ceremony moved steadily onward from there. They all watched as Lavender Brown walked up, with Seamus Finnegan soon after her, and then, with a roaring cheer, came Hermione Granger. Hermione blushed as she walked up to the stage, and received an actual hug from McGonagall, as well as a long handshake from Dumbledore. By the time she had returned to her seat, her face was dark red.  
  
After a while, it was Elle’s turn to go up. She in turn received a loud cheer as she jumped over Harry’s legs, and went up to claim her statue. She shook hands with all the teachers; Elle made a silly face at Hagrid, causing him to laugh as his enormous hand gripped her tiny wrist, and when she got to McGonagall, the strict professor gave her a surprising smile.   
  
“What do you know,” she said softly, peering at Elle through her square spectacles. “Do take care of yourself, Miss Levine.”  
  
“I will,” Elle promised, glad that McGonagall wasn’t still angry with her.

“And if you decide to let a fight with a boy almost ruin your life again,” McGonagall said quietly, raising her eyebrows. “Then you’re not the girl I thought you were.”

Elle flushed and nodded. “Thank you for the extra help with lessons,” she whispered to McGonagall sincerely.   
  
Finally, she reached Dumbledore. The Headmaster held out his palm, a large statue in the other hand. Elle took the statue and held out her left hand quickly, anxious to get back to her seat. But an odd look came over Dumbledore’s face as he shook her hand, and when she let go he whispered gently, “Congratulations.”  
  
Elle stared back at him, confused. “Thanks,” she replied slowly. She absentmindedly twirled her ring around on her finger as she stepped off the stage, thinking about the strange look on Dumbledore’s face. Was something wrong? Why had he looked at her like that?   
  
She shrugged it off for the meantime, deciding that it had just been her imagination.  
  
After Elle Levine came Neville Longbottom, then Luna Lovegood, followed by Draco Malfoy (who received scattered, unenthusiastic applause), Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, and finally, Harry Potter.  
  
A huge cheer erupted throughout the auditorium when his name was called, and Harry tentatively got to his feet. He could hear Elle laugh a little next to him, and when he looked down she gave him a thumbs up, mouthing the words, “You got this.”  
  
As he made his way up to the stage, he could hear the Weasley’s calling out his name and waving to him. He waved back, and began to shake hands with the Professors. Well, all except for Snape, who forgot to hold up his hand as Harry passed.  
  
Harry approached Dumbledore last and proudly accepted his statue. As he observed it, he thought that it was way cooler than any ordinary diploma. The statue was made of glass, and bared the Hogwarts seal- only the lion, snake, badger, and eagle were moving. The statue glowed warmly when he touched it, and squeakily shouted out the words, “Harry Potter-Hogwarts!”  
  
Harry shook Dumbledore’s hand, and Dumbledore returned the shake with a friendly smile and a wink.  
  
"Would you mind if I made the announcement?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his eyes twinkling. “I think it’s better if it comes from me; the others are bound to find out eventually.”   
  
"Uh, sure," Harry said, not minding about Dumbledore announcing his graduation to the crowd. That's what everybody was here for, right?   
  
He went to go and sit back down, but wondered what the wink was all about. However, he didn’t have time to ponder this much as Dean Thomas’ name was called and more ear-shattering applause filled the room. He sat down next to Elle, and they spent the next five minutes playfully hitting each other with their statues.  
  
Once everybody’s name had been called, Dumbledore came front and center once more, and introduced all the Professors. Then, he called for the Head Boy and Girl to come forward. Ron and Hermione, both blushing furiously, made their way towards the platform amongst enormous cheers, where they received special medals for excelling in their duties. The Weasley’s were all applauding like mad. The two returned to their seats, both grinning broadly.   
  
Finally, the cheers died down, and Dumbledore resumed his position for the last time.  
  
“The ceremony is almost over, but I beg those of you who are still awake to bear with me while I make a few last-minute announcements,” Dumbledore said. “The first announcement goes to the members of the D.A., better known as Dumbledore’s Army. Ever since the organization has been made public, those who have chosen to participate have all exceeded tremendously in their education of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I am extremely proud of each of you.”  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared significant looks, taking silent pride in knowing that they were the ones who started it all. Dumbledore smiled at them and clapped his hands.  
  
“My second announcement concerns a certain couple,” said Dumbledore after a few moments, a small sparkle in his eyes. Harry's stomach gave an instant lurch.   
  
"Oh no," he whispered to Elle.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"I said it was okay..."  
  
"Said what was okay?" Elle hissed, but then Dumbledore started speaking again.   
  
“I feel it is my undue need to congratulate Mister Harry Potter and Miss Elle Levine, who are now engaged to be married.”  
  
There was a huge gasp throughout the hall, and everyone turned to look at them. Malfoy gazed at the back of their heads in disgusted shock, and Seamus, Dean, and Neville stared at them, astonished, as if wondering how they had sat next to them all this time without knowing. The teachers all appeared to be overwhelmed by this information as well, and Hagrid glanced down at Harry with a confused expression. Someone distinctly whispered a couple of rows back, “I thought they had broken up!”  
  
Elle and Harry faced each other, their faces white. Neither of them knew what to say.  
  
“But…how did he know?” Elle asked in a low voice, very taken aback.  
  
“Your ring!” Hermione exclaimed. “Elle, he must have noticed the ring while you were shaking his hand.”  
  
“Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he’s good at Legilimency,” Harry added, casting his eyes uneasily about the Hall.  
  
The silence was so empowering that Harry seriously considered taking Elle’s hand and running for it, but after a few moments, once the shock had worn off, the whole place began to fill with hesitant applause. The applause got steadily louder, and before they knew it, people were standing up and cheering for them, happily shouting out their names and whistling. Harry and Elle found that they were the ones to turn red this time, but after a while they both grinned nervously.  
  
“So much for keeping it a secret,” Harry said aloud, earning laughter from those surrounding him.  
  
“Oh please,” said Ron. “If you two had wanted to keep things under wraps, then Elle would’ve taken off the ring.”  
  
Elle gave Harry a guilty look. “Sorry,” she said. “He’s right, I should have.”  
  
Harry smiled and reached for her hand, their fingers tightly entwined. “It’s just as well,” he murmured. “I never want you to have a reason to take it off.”  
  
Dumbledore ended the ceremony and allowed for everyone to rise from their seats and move about. To Harry and Elle’s surprise, random people kept coming up to congratulate them, some of whom Harry had never talked to before in his life. The Weasley’s came over to see them, and after Mrs. Weasley fussed over Ron and Hermione, she enveloped Harry into a tight embrace, squeezing him so hard that he was afraid his bones might break.  
  
“Oh my dear, you don’t know how happy we are for you, even though I don’t know what you’re thinking getting married so young, but it’s such a shame that your parents aren’t alive to see you all grown up and graduated, if only they could be here…”  
  
“Whoa mum, calm down, you don’t want to suffocate him,” Ron grinned, gently pulling his mother back.  
  
Harry laughed. “Thanks Mrs. Weasley,” he said, looking at her appreciatively. “I’m really glad you’re here, even though they can’t be.”  
  
Mrs. Weasley smiled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, before catching sight of Elle, who was standing uncertainly off to the side, chewing on her lip. Mrs. Weasley went over to her and gave her a hug too, which surprised Elle so much that Harry had to laugh.  
  
“I’m happy for you too, dear,” she said comfortingly. “If there’s anything you ever need or want to talk about, don’t hesitate to come to us, alright? You and Harry are always welcome in our family.”  
  
Elle stepped back and gave Mrs. Weasley a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she replied. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned their attentions back to Ron and Hermione, and Lupin and Hagrid came over to talk to Harry. Elle sighed, and was just about to wander off when she felt a small, hesitant tap on her shoulder. She whirled around, only to come face to face with none other than Lavender Brown.  
  
Elle was momentarily dumbstruck. What did Lavender want? Had she come to say something nasty about her and Harry? She had plenty of material, after all.   
  
But something wasn’t right. Instead of acting mean and intimidating, Lavender appeared…nervous. Her eyes were fixated on the ground instead of Elle’s face, and she appeared to be fidgeting. Elle didn’t know what to do. If Lavender wanted to yell at her, now was the perfect time.  
  
“Um…did you want something?” Elle asked cautiously, slowly awakening her defenses in case she needed them.  
  
Lavender finally looked up, locking Elle’s fierce green eyes with her guilty brown ones.

“Yes,” she said, with a small sigh. “I want to apologize.”  
  
Elle felt as if she were about to faint. “A-apologize?” she asked weakly.  
  
Lavender nodded. “Look, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I should never have picked that fight with you during the Quidditch match last year, and I shouldn’t have said those things about you during the Order meeting. I guess I was feeling sort of… jealous. I mean, I spent all these years at Hogwarts trying to get someone to notice me, and then Dean finally asks me out, but then you came and ended up receiving more attention than I ever had in my entire life. When Dean and I broke up, it kind of sent me over the edge, and I went off on you. I’m sorry.”  
  
Elle blinked. “Wow. Um…” she said hesitantly. “I never knew about any of that. It must have been really annoying for me to come here and mess everything up for you.”  
  
Lavender shook her head. “It wasn’t just you,” she admitted. “I was really upset over everything, and I needed somebody to blame all my troubles on. You were the perfect target.”  
  
“I can imagine,” Elle said. She took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. You were right about everything you said. It taught me a lot.”  
  
“Let’s just put that behind us, okay? I’m sorry, and I’m glad you and Harry are getting married. You two belong together.” Lavender gave Elle a small smile, and Elle surprisingly found herself smiling back.  
  
“Thanks,” Elle replied. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And in a way, I’m kind of glad you said those things during the Order meeting. Nobody else would’ve been that brutally honest with me.”  
  
Lavender laughed, and Elle did too. “Oh yeah, and I’m really sorry about the punch,” Elle added guiltily, gazing at the floor.  
  
“Forget about it,” Lavender said, waving her hand dismissively. “I deserved it, for calling you a bitch. I also thought you should know, that I don’t agree with what Parvati did. It was a horrible thing for her to do, kissing Harry just to get revenge on you. I tried to stop her.”  
  
“It’s okay,” said Elle. She was in such a good mood, that she found it hard to care about the stuff Lavender and Parvati had done to her.  
  
Lavender grinned. “So, am I forgiven?” she asked tentatively.  
  
“Hmm, let me think,” Elle joked, pretending to contemplate the idea. “Of course you are!”  
  
She reached out and hugged Lavender. Lavender seemed startled, but then shyly put her arms around Elle and hugged her back.  
  
“Am I invited to the wedding?” Lavender asked quietly as they hugged.  
  
Elle laughed. “Definitely!”  
  
From a few feet away, Ron looked up from where he had joined Harry and caught sight of Elle and Lavender. He blinked a few times, before blurting out, “Please tell me I’m going blind.”  
  
Harry looked at him, confused. “Why?”  
  
“Is that Elle and Lavender…hugging?”  
  
Harry and Hermione whipped around, and both gazed at the two girls with their mouths open. Hermione recovered first, and shook her head.  
  
“Trust Elle to get into a fight with somebody one minute, and end up hugging them the next,” she said.  
  
Elle and Lavender broke apart, and Elle came over to where they were standing, her grin extra-wide.  
  
Lupin raised his eyebrows at her. “Well, if it isn’t the bride-to-be,” he announced.  
  
Elle smiled. She loved the sound of the word  _bride_. “Hello Professor,” she said. “Surprised to see us all graduate?”  
  
“After seeing you all excel in your Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T, not at all,” he replied. “Actually, I was just congratulating Harry on your engagement. From what I hear, it was quite spur of the moment.”  
  
“I’ve actually been thinking about it since Christmas,” Harry replied, putting his arm around Elle and drawing her close.  
  
“James and Lily would be so happy,” Lupin said, grinning at Harry. “They married young too. It seems as if just yesterday you were only a baby being held in James and Lily’s arms, and now here you are, barely eighteen and already settling down. I never would have suspected it.”  
  
“Who said anything about settling down?” Harry asked, gripping Elle’s hand. “Just the thought of it sounds boring.”  
  
“Yeah,” Elle agreed, her eyes glinting mischievously. “We have a wedding to plan AND a Dark Lord to defeat!”   
  
They all laughed, unaware that from a few feet away McGonagall was eyeing them, her lips pursed. She stepped over to where Dumbledore stood talking with the Weasley’s, and urgently pulled him aside.  
  
“What is it, Minerva?” Dumbledore asked lightly.  
  
“You know very well what,” said McGonagall sternly. “Potter and Elle?”  
  
Dumbledore sighed. “Oh, that. Well…”  
  
“Albus, they are much too young! For goodness sake, Potter is not even eighteen yet! And don’t even get me started on Elle; I gave up my evenings to coach that girl on Transfiguration! Surely you’re not going to allow this?”  
  
Dumbledore stared down at McGonagall’s severe face. “I am afraid we have no choice, Minerva. It is no longer up to us to guide them.”  
  
“Be reasonable, Albus!” she exclaimed, her nostrils ablaze. “You know just as well as I that if their parents were alive, they would never have permitted this type of behavior…”  
  
“How can you know that for sure?” Dumbledore said gently, cutting her off. “Neither of us knows what Lily or James would have done if they were with us today. Nor Elle's parents. Perhaps it is because of that fact that propels this desperate need for marriage, and an idea of family. I am afraid, parents or no parents, that they will end up going through with this no matter what.”  
  
“But they’re children!” McGonagall cried out desperately, in a last attempt for Dumbledore to take her side.  
  
“Yes,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “But look at them.”  
  
He cast a hand over the hall and gestured toward the laughing couple, who were holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes as if nothing in the world could tear them apart.  
  
“They’re in love,” he continued.  
  
McGonagall sighed, knowing she was not about to win this argument. “But Albus,” she said, pressing on. “What about Voldemort?”  
  
A dark look passed over Dumbledore’s face. “I will see to it that they are protected,” he said resolutely. “They may no longer be my students, but until Harry is ready to face the prophecy, I will continue to make sure they are kept out of harm’s way.”  
  
He patted McGonagall’s arm comfortingly and turned away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said politely. “I need to speak with them.”

* * *

Harry beamed as he gazed down at Elle, feeling happier at this very moment than he had ever felt in his entire life. Sure, he had some doubts about jumping into marriage, but every time he locked eyes with the girl he loved, all his doubts floated away. Elle was the one; he could feel it in the deepest parts of his soul. His thoughts drifted, and soon he found himself laughing out loud.  
  
Elle gave him a questioning look. “What’s so funny?” she asked curiously.  
  
Harry shook his head. “I’ve always imagined what this day would be like,” he said, still holding onto her hand and playing with her fingers.  
  
Elle tilted her head. “And?” she pressed. “Did it turn out like you imagined?”  
  
He grinned. “Well, let’s just say I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.  
  
She laughed. “I wasn’t expecting you either,” she replied.  
  
Harry bent down to kiss her, but stopped as he sensed someone standing behind them.  
  
“Pardon my intrusion,” said Dumbledore, bowing slightly.  
  
Ron and Hermione, who had been pulled aside by Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott, trotted over to Harry and Elle. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
“I just thought I’d give you all one last congratulations,” he said.  
  
“Thank you, Professor,” said Hermione. “It’ll feel strange not seeing you every day.”  
  
“I’m sorry to disappoint you Miss Granger, but I’m afraid you will be seeing me quite often,” Dumbledore informed her. “Now that summer has arrived, the Order meetings will be more frequent. I will be alerting each of you when the next one arrives, and since you all have been properly trained in sword fighting, more drastic measures will be taken. Will you all be staying together?”  
  
“Yes,” Ron answered them. “The four of us are heading back to the Burrow, where we’ll spend the summer, or at least until we all find a place to live.”  
  
Harry looked at him in surprise. “Really? Your parents are okay with having us stay?”  
  
Ron gave Harry an exasperated look, as if the question was completely stupid. Harry grinned.  
  
“That sounds terrific,” he said.  
  
“It really does,” Elle agreed. She looked at Harry and smiled gleefully. “And while we’re there, we can look for a home of our own!”   
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I was just thinking about that," he admitted. "Let me oversee finding you a home," he beseeched them. "I'll find one and apply the proper protective measures. By the time I'm finished, it'll be as impregnable as Grimmauld Place."  
  
Harry and Elle shared stunned, but satisfied looks.   
  
"So,” Dumbledore continued, surveying Harry and Elle. “When will the wedding be?”  
  
Harry hesitated. “Uh, we haven’t exactly set a date yet…” he muttered, glancing at Elle.  
  
Dumbledore shrugged. “No reason to rush.” He winked. “Have a wonderful day.”  
  
And with a sparkle in his eyes, he bowed his head and was off, mingling amongst the crowd.  
  
For the rest of the morning and afternoon, they decided to make the most of their last day by exploring the whole castle for the last time, trying to instill all the walls, portraits, and passageways into their minds before the school vanished from memory. When they grew tired of sentimental journeys, they resorted to joking and messing around out by the lake.  
  
They had afternoon tea with Hagrid, and in the evening, took one last ride around the Quidditch Pitch, with Hermione and Elle taking turns on Elle’s broomstick. Harry enjoyed the feeling of wind being rushed through his hair whilst atop the broomstick he had grown fond of, and insisted they all stay outside until tiny twinkling stars replaced the glorious afternoon sunset.  
  
Back in the common room, Harry was faced with a surprise. Everyone from his dormitory was still up and about, which was odd, since it was getting rather late. He figured they were throwing some sort of farewell party, but he didn’t feel like joining in. All he wanted was to be alone with Elle, so they could have at least one night alone together before they were married. By the looks of things, it appeared Elle was thinking along those same lines, because she viewed the crowded common room with an apprehensive, almost disappointed expression.

Harry was just about to suggest heading somewhere else, until Dean, Seamus, and Neville came up to him.  
  
“We have a little surprise for you,” said Dean, a playful smirk forming around the corners of his mouth.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. He was getting a little nervous at the look on Dean’s face. “I’m not going to enjoy this, am I?” he asked reproachfully.  
  
Dean and Seamus shared a look and laughed. “Oh no, mate- you’re going to enjoy this VERY much,” Seamus replied.  
  
“We…” Dean gestured towards Ron, Seamus, and Neville, “have agreed to sleep down in the common room tonight, so that you and your soon-to-be wife” (Elle turned slightly red) “can have some privacy up in the boy’s dormitory. If you know what I mean.”  
  
Harry and Elle gazed at them in surprise, and Elle felt herself turn profusely red. Harry opened and closed his mouth several times in embarrassment.  
  
“Are-are you sure?” he stuttered disbelievingly.  
  
Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Ron were all wearing mischievous looks. “Of course,” Seamus answered.  
  
“Mind you, you won’t be getting an engagement gift,” Ron added.  
  
Harry swallowed hard and glanced at Elle for confirmation. She raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly, giving him the green light. Harry’s stomach leapt. He gave his friends a grateful look, turned to Elle, and grabbed her hand.  
  
“Thanks,” said Harry quickly. “Night!”  
  
He jerked Elle’s hand and ran for the stairs, dragging her after him. All watching started to laugh, and Hermione and Parvati were the only ones who looked disapproving.   
  
The two reached the top of the stairs and disappeared inside the dorm. The door locked shut.

* * *

Once the door was closed, the two found themselves instantly thrown back against the wall, kissing and laughing like a couple of lovesick fools. They clumsily made their way over to Harry’s bed, tripping and banging into things, till they finally toppled onto the mattress with a surprisingly loud squeak.  
  
Knowing that they were not about to be interrupted, they continued kissing, twirling around on top and below each other, and moving their hands surreptitiously underneath each other’s clothes. Neither was paying any attention to what they were doing until they moved too far to the left, and both fell off the bed, landing on the floor with a noisy thump.  
  
“Ouch!” Elle called out, laughing to herself. “I think I just fell on somebody’s shoe!”  
  
“Thanks for killing the romance,” Harry joked.  
  
He stood up and jumped back on top of the bed, reaching down an arm to help Elle up. She allowed herself to be pulled back onto the sheets, and she and Harry lay next to each other, both of their heads resting on the same pillow.  
  
Harry wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Do you want to…you know…” he tilted his head. “I mean, we have the room all to ourselves…”  
  
Elle laughed again. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She smiled and rolled her eyes. “This may sound weird, but I think I’m actually kind of tired.”  
  
“Oh,” said Harry. “Well, that’s okay. We’ll just relax.” He lifted the covers and propped up the pillows.  
  
She gave him an appreciative look. “Are you sure you’re not mad?” she asked.  
  
He looked at her in disbelief, before laughing. “No, of course not,” he reassured her. “We’ve got our whole lives to do  _that_. Now, come on.”  
  
He got under the covers and gestured for her to join him, which she did. He put his arms around her, and a peaceful silence engulfed them as they lay together. Elle rested her head upon Harry’s chest and started playing with her ring again, and Harry sighed, perfectly content. Elle suddenly stopped twirling the ring and turned on her side, propping herself up with her elbow.  
  
“What are you thinking about?” she asked teasingly.  
  
Harry grinned. “I was thinking, I can’t believe it took me till the last night of school to have a girl in my bed.”  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. “No really, tell me the truth.”  
  
Harry faced her, propping himself up as well. “I was just wondering…we are doing the right thing, aren’t we?”  
  
Elle’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What are you saying?” she asked slowly.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong, I still want to get married,” he said quickly, picking up a strand of her flaxen hair. “But what if everything goes wrong? What if everyone is right, and we are too young? What if this is all some huge mistake?”  
  
Elle stared at him for a long time, silently pondering. When she finally answered, her voice was low and steady, and she spoke with unexpected profundity.  
  
“Do you really want to know the answer to those questions?” she inquired seriously. “Because I don’t. I don’t want to know if everything will go wrong, or if it’s just some huge mistake. If I wanted to know, I wouldn’t have said yes.” Her eyes shined. “But I love NOT knowing.” She laughed. “Think of this as an adventure. And if things do go horribly wrong, which they probably will, it won’t matter. Because we’re in this together, right?”  
  
Harry smiled. “Right,” he agreed. He stopped playing with her hair and leaned back, turning the lights off. “We’re probably the craziest people on this whole planet,” he murmured out loud.  
  
“I know,” Elle sighed. “Pretty awesome, huh?” She leaned back as well and closed her eyes, sliding one hand underneath the pillow and another across Harry’s chest. “Goodnight,” she whispered softly. “I love you, Harry.”  
  
Harry took off his glasses and closed his eyes. “I love you, Elle,” he echoed into the darkness. 

* * *

A disruptive, thundering knock on the dormitory door blasted Harry out of sleep, and he jolted up in bed, his heart quickening.  
  
“What is it?” he called out, breathing heavily.  
  
“Get up!” Ron’s voice answered back. “It’s already ten o’clock, we’ve got to get going!”  
  
Ten o’clock? Harry reached down to Elle and tried to shake her awake, ignoring the slight groan of disgruntlement escaping her lips.  
  
“Elle,” he said urgently, bouncing up and down. “Elle, get up. The train leaves in an hour.”  
  
“What?” she asked, shooting up from her sleepy position without warning, only to have her head smash right into Harry’s, creating a cringe-worthy crack as both of their skulls collided.  
  
“Ow!” they both cried out in pain, clutching their foreheads and falling out of bed.  
  
Ten minutes later, both of them were down in the common room along with Ron, Hermione, and their trunks, sporting ugly black and blue marks across the tops of their eyebrows. Ron and Hermione had practically exploded with laughter when they saw them, but confined themselves to mere giggles as they made their way across the room and out into the corridor.  
  
Ron, who was going red from containing his amusement, smirked at Harry and raised his eyebrows.

“I didn’t know last night was going to be  _that_  intense,” he joked.  
  
Harry glared at him, but didn’t say anything.  
  
As they got closer and closer to the entrance hall, Harry could see more and more people milling around in close knit groups, all examining something with their heads bent low. Some were whispering and pointing. Harry groaned.  _What now_ , he thought, with a touch of annoyance.  
  
Hermione looked around, and spotted Ginny approaching them with something in her hand.   
  
“What’s going on?” she asked her.  
  
Ginny grimaced. “I think you two might want to see this,” she said, thrusting a copy of the Daily Prophet into Harry’s outstretched hands.  
  
Harry scanned the front page, and his mouth opened in shock. Elle, Hermione, and Ron all leaned over to see, and Elle gasped.   
  
On the front page, for the entire world to see, was a huge picture of Harry and Elle from the Graduation Ceremony. They were holding hands and laughing, and an eye-catching headline shouted above in bold print:  
  
 **THE BOY WHO LIVED-ENGAGED?**  
  
Hermione grabbed the article out of Harry’s hands and read aloud.  
  
“Yesterday during Hogwarts’ Graduation Ceremony, it was announced that Harry Potter, age 17, is engaged to be married to America’s very own Danielle Levine, also age 17. Danielle (known to most as Elle), apparently stole the boy’s heart when the two got acquainted at Hogwarts, and they have been going strong ever since. There has been great speculation as to why the two have decided to exchange nuptials at such a young age, but no one seems to know the reason behind the supposedly spontaneous engagement. Of course, these things tend to never last long, so for all our hopeful young witches out there, don’t fall into despair too quickly. The young hero may not be off the market for long. The two were unavailable for comment and at press time a wedding date had not been made.”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's by Rita Skeeter, of course."   
  
Elle gazed down at the paper with her eyes narrowed. “Since when did you become such a ladies man?” she asked Harry dubiously.  
  
“Since when did my love life become front page news for the Daily Prophet?” Harry asked out loud, echoing Elle’s tone of disbelief. “This type of article belongs in Witch Weekly. I haven't been this interesting to read about since the Triwizard Tournament.”  
  
“How did they find out, anyway?” Ron asked.  
  
“Someone at the ceremony yesterday must have had a camera and sold the story to the Daily Prophet,” Hermione answered reasonably.  
  
"Yeah, and I have a good idea who," Elle said crossly, as she saw Parvati smirking across the room. She shrugged. “Oh well. At least I have a taste of what it's going to be like, marrying The Boy Who Lived."  
  
Hermione picked her head up and scanned the entrance hall. She spotted Dumbledore arguing with a group men who had cameras hanging around their necks, and exclaimed with a pointed finger, “Look over there!”  
  
Elle scrunched up her forehead. “Wait a second…those cameramen look familiar…they were everywhere in L.A, hunting down celebrities…”  
  
Harry frowned at the sight of the photographers, and took a deep breath. “Which we are now, as far as the wizarding world is concerned…” he reckoned slowly, as much as he hated to admit it.   
  
“Hey look, it’s them!” an unknown screechy voice sounded throughout the hall, pointing in Harry and Elle’s direction.  
  
Suddenly, the photographers that had been arguing with Dumbledore began dashing towards them, cameras at the ready. Bulbs from their cameras were flashing and emitting puffs of purple smoke. The flashes were so bright, that Harry became momentarily blinded.  
  
The crowd around them filled with more and more people, and Harry could hear shouts of “Look this way!” and “Don’t be shy, kiss a little, will you?”  
  
Harry had had enough. He was just about draw his wand and tell them all to leave him and Elle alone, when Elle yelled, “Follow me!”  
  
She grabbed his arm with one hand and her trunk in the other, and together they broke through the clump of onlookers and photographers and dashed out of the entrance hall, through the doors that led outside. The doors slammed shut behind them, but neither stopped running till they reached the Quidditch Pitch, panting for breath. Ron and Hermione were right behind them.  
  
“What now?” Ron asked wearily. “They’re going to follow us!”  
  
Right on cue, the castle doors opened and the paparazzi headed straight for them.  
  
Harry sucked in his breath. “I have an idea,” he said. He broke out his wand, opened his trunk, and bellowed, “Accio Firebolt!”  
  
The broomstick rushed towards him from underneath a pile of clothes, and Harry lifted his hand to catch it. Elle, catching on quickly, instantly pointed a finger at her and Harry’s trunks, made them lightweight, and both trunks sprung up and immediately attached themselves to the end of the broomstick.  
  
Harry swung his legs over the side. “Get on!” he called to Elle.  
  
She swung her legs over as well, and wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist, just like they had done so many moons ago. Bulbs were flashing even more wildly, and the photographers were getting closer.  
  
Ron looked around frantically. “Hurry up!” he ordered, as he and Hermione stood back. “Go now!”  
  
“We’ll meet you back at the Burrow,” Harry told them. He kicked off from the ground with surprising force, and they rose into the air.  
  
They circled the grounds a few times. Cameras were going crazy, and dozens of students were filing outside to watch. Elle tightened her grip around Harry, and he elevated even higher, so that the figures below were reduced to nothing more than minuscule versions of themselves. Finally, they sped away from the castle and into the sunlit sky ahead, with the wind rushing past them and ruffling their hair. Elle’s tresses were whipped behind her, and Harry’s messy locks went wild.  
  
“Are you okay?” he called back to her.  
  
Elle laughed in response. “I don’t think we’re EVER going to forget this school year,” she said whimsically.  
  


* * *

They flew for a few hours, careful to keep out of sight of muggles intent on viewing the skies. It was a very long way to the Burrow from Hogwarts, but Harry had to admit, it was a lot more exciting than taking the train-even if it was a bit slower, and a lot more exhausting.  
  
Soon, they began to get restless and hungry, and Harry began anticipating reaching the Burrow and getting the chance to freshen up. After a while, the landscape beneath them began to change, and Harry knew from the scenery that they were getting close. He had been to the Burrow so many times that he knew the way by heart, and an hour and a half later he leaned forward on his Firebolt, preparing to make a smooth and steady descent on the Weasley’s front lawn.  
  
Ron and Hermione were already there, waiting for them, along with the rest of the Weasley family who were in the process of heading inside. Harry supposed they had just gotten back from King’s Cross Station. They reached the ground and Elle slid off the broom, gathering up her now matted hair and tying it on top of her head. Harry slid off after her, and let his broom fall to the ground. His legs were wobbly, and he felt exhausted.  
  
“Well, look who it is,” said Ron, raising his eyebrows. “The escape artists.”  
  
“What happened after we left?” Elle asked, un-attaching her and Harry’s luggage from the back of the broom.  
  
“Well,” said Hermione. “Dumbledore came out and made all the photographers leave. But nobody could stop talking about it on the train; I must have seen a thousand Daily Prophet covers. Oh, and you forgot something…” She produced Elle’s broomstick from inside her trunk and tossed it to her.  
  
“Thanks,” Elle said gratefully, catching hold of it.  
  
“Come on, let’s get inside,” said Ron.  
  
They all entered the house, where they were greeted by the whole family, and went up to the rooms they had shared together the previous summer to change and catch up. Afterwards, they went back down and had some lunch, where Mrs. Weasley came to chat with them and instantly agreed to help with the wedding plans as much as she could.  
  
Some of the basics were quickly decided; the wedding would be held in the third week of August, three weeks after Harry turned eighteen and a week before Elle’s eighteenth birthday. They hadn’t picked a location yet, but with Mrs. Weasley’s help, began putting together a guest list, inviting everyone from the Order, Ally and Brian (assuming they could fly in from California), and all their friends from school. Harry chose Ron as his best man and Elle claimed Hermione as her maid of honor, with Ginny and Lavender as bridesmaids. Harry chose Seamus, Dean, and Neville as groomsmen, even though he thought deciding all this right away was a little ridiculous.  
  
Within a few weeks, all that was left to be decided was the location, the decorations, and the dresses. Elle didn’t care about the first two, but couldn’t wait to try on gowns. Elle, Hermione, and Ginny agreed on going shopping within the next couple of days, and Mrs. Weasley said she’d take care of the invitations. Elle felt that Mrs. Weasley was doing too much, and even though she told her that invitations weren’t necessary, Mrs. Weasley insisted on helping. So, Elle relaxed, and decided to let Ron’s mother help as much as she wanted.  
  
Someone not as helpful, but just as excited, was Harry. He could care less about all the details…all he wanted was for him and Elle to finally be together, and on their own.  
  
Throughout the month of June, things seemed to be put together in a hurry. Mrs. Weasley completed and mailed the invitations, and Harry and Elle began discussing possible places where their wedding could take place. Also, they considered the notion of asking Dumbledore to marry them, since neither was very religious, and their former Headmaster seemed like the perfect person to unite them in marriage.   
  
Along with that, Harry and Elle became preoccupied with moving into the new flat Dumbledore was supposed to be picking out for them. Their goal was to at least help him find one before they got married, but that was proving to be difficult. No neighborhood seemed equally cheap and decent, but they had to hurry with their search-even though neither of them said anything out loud, both felt as though they were forcing their stay upon the Weasley’s.  
  
Another issue at hand was money, and how they were supposed to be paying for all of this. Harry still had quite a lot of money saved up from his parent’s fortune, and Elle had inherited some money from her parents too. Harry didn’t think they needed to be worrying just yet; after all, he had planned on getting a job in addition to Auror training once the summer and wedding were over, and Elle promised that she would get a job as well. Until then, he figured that the money they had now would be enough to pay for the wedding expenses, and they would at least be able to put a down payment on a flat…not to mention save for things such as food, furniture, and bills.  
  
Harry and Elle quickly found that all this talk about money and planning for the future gave them painful headaches. Neither was ready to be thinking about these things yet.  
  
During the last Saturday in June, Elle, Hermione, and Ginny all left the house early one morning to hunt for dresses, promising to be back in time for dinner. They went to Diagon Alley and set off like a pack of scavenging wolves, storming about from dress shop to dress shop, until Hermione finally spotted one that seemed prosperous enough to check out.  
  
A tinkle of bells sounded above the door as they walked in, and immediately a snooty saleswoman floated over to them to offer her assistance.  
  
“May I help you  _children_?” she asked with a sniff, stressing the last word as though it left a bad taste in her mouth.  
  
“Um, yes,” said Elle hesitantly, stepping forward. “I’m looking for a wedding dress, and two bridesmaid dresses.”  
  
The lady’s eyes shot up so far that they disappeared into her hairline. “A wedding dress? For you?” she asked, shocked.  
  
Elle nodded, and the lady sniffed again.  
  
“A little young to be getting married, aren’t we?” she said icily, gazing Elle up and down.  
  
“Not at all,” Elle replied. “I look young for my age. And I’ve got TONS of money to spend in here.”  
  
Hermione and Ginny hid their grins. The saleswoman immediately straightened up, and looked over the girls with newfound respect.  
  
“Well, come along,” she said brusquely, turning on her heel. “As you can see, we have quite a large selection…”  
  
The lady led them to a section in the back where, next to a couple of fitting rooms, was a little stand set up in front of three wall-length mirrors that were designed to show off every angle, curve, and patch of cellulite you happened to have on your body.  
  
Elle self-consciously stood on the stand. Salespeople kept bringing over dozens and dozens of white wedding dresses, and Elle tirelessly tried them all on. Some were quite hideous; a couple had skirts that poofed out so much it made Elle look like a giant vanilla cake, and others were so frilly and covered with bows that Elle felt like a Barbie doll when she wore them, a fact that she utterly despised.  
  
Finally, Elle tried on one that she found she liked, and even though it was extremely uncomfortable, she approved of the way it fit her. She turned slowly on top of the stand, admiring herself in the mirror, and called Hermione and Ginny over to ask their opinion.  
  
“It’s perfect,” Hermione said, looking the dress over. Ginny nodded in agreement.  
  
Elle examined herself more closely. The whole thing was made of satin, and felt soft and delicate to the touch. The top was strapless, and covered her upper body like a glove. The skirt fanned out just enough, and trailed all the way down the floor past Elle’s feet. Elle gingerly ran a hand over the material and let the satin slip past her fingers; it was almost as if she were touching silk. And it was all in the shade of a breathtaking, creamy white.  
  
Elle touched her bare neck and shoulders. The snotty saleslady, who had been standing guard nearby, marched over to her. She was obviously impatient, and more than a little peeved that Elle had dismissed practically all the store’s gowns. “Do you like it?”  
  
Elle sighed and bit her lip, looking herself over once more.  
  
“Yes,” she said finally. “I love it. I think I’ll take it.”  
  
“Good,” said the lady, relieved.  
  
She snapped her fingers, and instantly measuring tapes and other tools zoomed over to Elle, beginning to magically measure and make adjustments on the dress. The saleslady walked away and came back with about a dozen bridesmaid dresses, in every color of the rainbow and every possible style. She held them out in front of Elle.  
  
“Which ones do you prefer the bridesmaids to wear?” she asked.  
  
Elle glanced at Hermione and Ginny. “Um, I think you should let them decide,” she mumbled, embarrassed at the thought of making decisions for everyone. “They’re the ones who are going to be wearing them, after all.”  
  
“Very well,” sniffed the lady haughtily, and laid the dresses out in front of Hermione and Ginny.  
  
“Are you sure?” asked Ginny incredulously, fingering the dresses longingly. “I mean, you are the bride. Don’t you at least want us to pick a certain color?”  
  
“Pick whatever you want,” Elle insisted. “And don’t worry about the price- it’s all taken care of.”  
  
She winked, and almost got hit in the head with a pair of scissors that had just finished trimming the skirt, and was now floating back towards the front of the shop.  
  
An hour later, the three girls were walking out of the bridal shop, laden down with three huge bags full of the most gorgeous dresses Elle had ever seen. Hermione and Ginny had picked out the most fantastic bridesmaid gowns; Hermione’s was long and strapless, like Elle’s, but made of a thinner material and in the shade of pale pink. Ginny’s dress was shorter than both of theirs and had spaghetti straps, and was a stunning light blue color that went well with her striking red hair.   
  
Once they got back to the Burrow, they carefully put away their dresses (Elle was extra careful not to let Harry see hers, even though he tried to snatch the bag out of her hands), and went down into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was preparing dinner.  
  
They were all about to start eating, when there was a sharp knock at the door, and Mr. Weasley excused himself from the table to answer it.  
  
“Dumbledore!” he called out jovially, causing everyone to look up in surprise. “Come in, you can join us for supper…”  
  
“Thank you very much Arthur, but I am afraid I must decline the offer tonight,” Dumbledore said softly as he came in. “I apologize for interrupting. I do, however, need to speak with Miss Levine for a quick moment. Is she here?”  
  
“I’m here!” shouted Elle, standing quickly and nearly upsetting her drink.  
  
Dumbledore came over to her, and Elle smiled at him, but faltered at the look on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, wondering why he looked so serious.  
  
Dumbledore peered at her, his expression unreadable. “Would you like to speak in private?” he asked gently.  
  
Elle swallowed, now anxious, and shook her head. “I’ll most likely tell everyone anyway.”  
  
Dumbledore took a deep breath. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley now stood by their seats, both white-faced and rigid. Harry sensed the tension and immediately took Elle’s hand.   
  
“Elle,” Dumbledore started slowly. “I’m sorry, there is no easy way to say this. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin have been found dead.”  
  



	32. Privet Drive Encounter

The silence in the room that followed Dumbledore’s words settled down among them like a plague. Nobody quite knew what to make of this information, or what to say. Elle blinked, and stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. During these past few weeks, she had been so overwhelmed by the upcoming wedding, that she hadn’t paid her aunt, uncle, or cousin a second thought. She hadn’t even considered sharing with them that she was engaged.  
  
And now they were dead.  
  
A thousand different questions rushed through Elle’s head at once. She had so much to ask, but as she opened her mouth, the only thing she could utter was, “What?”  
  
Dumbledore stared at her cautiously for a moment, before starting again. “Your relatives…”  
  
“No, I heard you,” she interrupted, not being able to help her rudeness. Shocked, she sat down on one of the spindly dining room chairs. All the members of the Weasley family were sharing uncomfortable glances back and forth between each other.  
  
“Um, I think I’ll just eat this up in our room,” Ginny muttered, carrying her plate and walking away. She patted Elle on the shoulder. “Come find me if you need me.”   
  
One by one, the rest of the Weasley family got up and walked off carrying their plates and drinks, until only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were left. Elle wanted to call after them and tell them that they didn’t have to leave, but found that somehow she had lost the power of speech.  
  
She looked up at Dumbledore with wide eyes, waiting for him to explain. Dumbledore looked down at her and sighed again.  
  
“It occurred yesterday morning. Apparently, the three of them were in their house, getting ready to leave for work, when somebody broke in and committed the murder. The strange part is, when the muggle police came to investigate, they could find nothing wrong with the three bodies. No wounds, no blood…nothing. Nothing else in the house was disturbed.”  
  
Harry went over and stood behind Elle. “So you think it was Voldemort?” he asked, prepared for the flinches that usually arose at the sound of his name. Surprisingly, none came.  
  
Dumbledore met Harry’s eyes. “If not Voldemort exactly, then it must have been someone sent by him.”  
  
“But why  _them_?” Elle asked shakily. “Why would Voldemort want to kill them? They never did anything to anybody!”  
  
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Dumbledore slowly. “It’s not them he’s after. He was probably looking for you.”  
  
Another stunned silence greeted these words. Elle swallowed hard, her face white. “Why was he looking for me?” she asked fearfully.  
  
Harry’s grip tightened on the back of her chair. “Because of me.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded. “My guess is that he knows by now of your engagement. He’s known for some time now how close the two of you are. He knows the best way to get to Harry is by going after the people he loves…Sirius was proof of that.”  
  
Everybody looked at Harry. Strands of anger and guilt were beginning to entangle him. Why did this have to happen now? This was his fault- if it weren’t for him, Elle’s family would still be alive, and she wouldn’t be in this much danger. Newspaper articles and photographers were one thing. Murder was another.   
  
Unintentionally, Harry felt his hands ball into fists. He was so caught up in fury and thoughts of revenge, that he almost missed what Dumbledore said next.  
  
“Regardless of Voldemort’s intentions, there is more to discuss,” Dumbledore informed Elle. “It appears that you are your Aunt and Uncle’s last living relative, is that correct?”  
  
Elle nodded slowly. “Yes,” she confirmed. “My uncle had no living family left on his side, and as you know my parents are already dead, and that’s all my aunt had on her side. My cousin Cameron was engaged, but as far as I know, her and her fiancé hadn’t been married yet.”  
  
“Well,” said Dumbledore quietly. “In that case, I believe you are the one to inherit their house and possessions.”  
  
Elle blinked and stared at him. “Me? But what am I supposed to do with their stuff? I don’t want to keep anything.”  
  
Dumbledore shrugged. “Then sell it,” he suggested. “It’s up to you. But I think it would be best if you at least paid a visit to the house.” He looked up. “I’ve decided to hold an emergency Order meeting for tomorrow. Drastic protection measures need to be taken to ensure the two of you are kept safe. Now that Voldemort knows about your engagement, there’s no telling what he’ll do. And if he’s after you, Elle, then we need to be prepared for the worst.”  
  
He rose to his feet. “I’m so sorry to have barged in on you like this, especially with this upsetting news,” Dumbledore said apologetically to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  
  
“Not at all,” said Mrs. Weasley quickly. “We understand. We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”  
  
“Goodnight,” said Dumbledore. He looked down at Elle sadly. “I am sorry for your loss,” he told her softly.  
  
Elle didn’t say anything; she merely nodded her head, not tearing her gaze away from her feet. Dumbledore headed for the door and let himself out, allowing the door to be closed with a slight bang that caused them all to jump.  
  
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. “We’ll leave you kids alone now,” he said, taking Mrs. Weasley’s hand.  
  
“But Arthur…” Mrs. Weasley protested, staring at Harry and Elle with concerned eyes.  
  
“They can come to us if they need us, Molly,” Mr. Weasley interrupted. “There’s not much we can do here.”  
  
“Oh, all right,” Mrs. Weasley sighed, letting her husband drag her away. “Are you going to be okay, dear?” she asked Elle before they disappeared.  
  
“Yeah,” said Elle, managing a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”  
  
After they left, the four of them were quiet for a moment. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, wondering if they should say something. Harry went to go sit down across from Elle and looked at her closely, seeing what he could do to help. The initial shock seemed to have worn off a bit, and now she was gazing off into the corner, lost in thought.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, not knowing what other words of comfort he could give.  
  
She sighed. “It’s so weird,” she said. “I never even liked them. In fact, I hated all three of them.” She swallowed. “But I never wanted them…dead.”  
  
“I know,” Harry replied understandingly. “It isn’t fair.”  
  
Elle looked up at Harry. “Do you realize what this means?” she whispered. “Every single person in my family is dead. I’m alone.”  
  
“No you’re not,” said Hermione. “You’ve got us.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron, as though he felt the need to say something reassuring. “We’d never leave you alone.”  
  
Elle smiled a little. “Thanks guys.” She rubbed her eyes, suddenly extremely tired. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You really are the best friends anybody could ever ask for.”  
  
“We know,” said Ron. He stretched his arms up over his head. “Do you want to take some food and go upstairs? I know nobody else is going to come back down.”  
  
“No thanks,” said Elle, yawning. “I’m not very hungry. You three can go; I think I’ll just stay down here for a while.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked.  
  
Elle nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”  
  
“I’ll stay down here too,” Harry said.  
  
Ron and Hermione shot him a quick look, but when Harry didn’t respond they relented slowly and quietly up the stairs, careful not to bother anyone.  
  
Harry sighed. He knew that Elle probably wanted to be left alone, but he needed to talk to her. He couldn’t let this keep happening; he felt horrible for putting her in danger. Voldemort would stop at nothing until he killed her, and the worst part was, it was all because of him. No matter what sort of protection Dumbledore was going to provide for them, Elle was still going to get hurt, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. He had to do something.  
  
Elle looked up at him. Harry got up and sat on the edge of her chair, and Elle scooted over and tucked her legs underneath her, resting her head against Harry’s shoulder.  
  
“Why did this have to happen now?” she asked with a groan, chewing on her lip. “Cameron must have felt the same way…she was about to get married too…”  
  
Harry shrugged, shaking his head. “This is all my fault,” he muttered.  
  
Elle gazed at him tiredly. “Stop taking credit for everything. It is not your fault,” she said. “There was nothing you or anyone could have done to stop Voldemort from killing them.”  
  
“I know,” he said. “But it’s my fault he’s after you.”  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. “Harry, I can take care of myself. I’m not going to let him ruin our relationship just because he thinks he can kill me.”  
  
“Elle, that’s the thing-he CAN kill you. And if he gets the chance, he will. Don’t you see? He will never let us be together in peace. Not until the day he dies.”  
  
“Well I’m sorry, but isn’t it up to you to make sure that happens already? I mean, how long are you going to wait until you fulfill the prophecy?”  
  
“Oh sure, easy for you to say,” Harry said. “I bet you wouldn’t want to put your life in jeopardy so quickly if it were you. I need to stay alive for as long as I can, Elle. For the both of us.”  
  
There was silence for a moment. Elle looked down, and then looked back up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said slowly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”  
  
Harry looked away. “That’s okay,” he said, in a low voice. “I know you're in shock. But I want you to realize that all I’m doing is trying to protect you.” He stared into her eyes. “I don’t want anything happening to you,” he whispered. “I love you.”  
  
Elle gazed at him intensely, and lifting her arm, she gently brushed his cheek with her hand. “I love you too,” she whispered back. “And I realize that it’s a huge risk, us being together, but it’s one that we have to take. We can handle this. And I don't always need to be protected.”  
  
She took her hand away from Harry’s face and gave him an encouraging grin. “You WILL defeat Voldemort,” she said confidently, never looking away from his eyes.  
  
Harry shook his head, but smiled despite himself.

“How can you be so positive?” he asked disbelievingly. "You're always optimistic, even when there's a tragedy in your family. I remember when you first came to Hogwarts...you were so bright all the time, I never would have guessed your parents had just died."   
  
Elle laughed hollowly. “Someone has to be optimistic. But there's a lot I hide on the inside,” she said sadly.  
  
Harry nodded. It had taken him a while to learn that about her.  
  
Elle stood up. “Besides,” she continued. “I have a wedding dress waiting upstairs. Did you really want me to return it?”  
  
“Definitely not,” Harry responded. “Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said. “It’s been a long day.” He stretched his arms above his head wearily. “We’ll go to sleep early, and then in the morning we can visit your aunt and uncle’s house before the meeting,” Harry suggested reasonably.  
  
Elle’s expression darkened, and she sighed. “Do we really have to go?”  
  
Harry nodded. “You heard what Dumbledore said. You inherit their house and their possessions, and now you have to figure out what to do with them.”  
  
Elle nodded grudgingly, but still looked stormy. She wasn't enjoying this whole adulting thing.   
  
“Just think,” he added brightly, trying to take a page from her book and cheer her up. “Afterwards, we can bore everyone at the meeting with wedding details.”  
  
Elle considered this for a moment. “Okay,” she said finally.  
  
Harry sighed and took her hand. Together, they made their way upstairs. Tomorrow was sure to bring more unwanted trouble, but Harry was starting to get used to it.  


* * *

The next morning, Harry found himself back on Privet Drive- the very last place he wanted to be. It was funny; he had been so thrilled to leave the previous summer, so sure he would never have to set foot in this place again, and now here he was…mere feet from the Dursley’s front lawn.

Elle was staring up at the house with an apprehensive look on her face, as if the three dead bodies would be waiting for her the second she walked through the door. Harry knew she didn’t want to go in, but they were going to have to deal with this sooner or later. She looked at him as if to say,  _do we have to?_  
  
Harry nodded, and she sighed resentfully. Not wanting to risk standing outside any longer and getting caught by Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia, he gave Elle a little nudge, and followed her into the house.  
  
He could see Elle shiver slightly as they made their way through the neat and orderly living room that still reminded Harry of a museum. Everything seemed exactly as it was since the last time he had been there; nothing seemed to be missing, or out of place. In fact, the house appeared to be undisturbed.

“I think I’d almost prefer it if the house were in ruins,” Elle whispered to Harry. Harry looked at sadly, knowing how tired she must be of entering the houses where her family had died.  
  
They continued past the kitchen, where he and Elle had once consumed an entire bag of crisps, and went on past the dining room until they reached the staircase. Elle bit her lip and looked around hesitantly.  
  
“I think maybe we should start looking around upstairs, you know, just in case there’s anything up there worth keeping. I don’t think there’s much to look at down here,” she said.  
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you say.”  
  
For the next half hour, their time was devoted to scrounging the entire upper level of the house, searching for any item of value. The rest, they figured, they could sell along with the house. Elle found a few random items in her old room that she had left behind, or that had survived her aunt and uncle’s spring-cleaning, but other than that, there wasn’t much. Elle had told Harry that her aunt and uncle were very boring people, much like the Dursley’s, so she hadn’t expected to take back a lot.  
  
They were just about to wrap up their search, and were in the middle of considering whether to look for anything in the attic, when they heard a loud “CRACK!” coming from downstairs. Elle and Harry looked at each other, alarmed.  
  
“I’ll go check it out,” Elle said at once, jumping up and making a dash for the stairs before Harry could even get up.  
  
Running down the staircase and gracelessly jumping over the last few steps, she flew in to the living room, only to come face to face with none other than Cameron’s fiancé, Damien.  
  
He was standing alone in the living room, dressed head to toe in black, and was hurriedly stashing something inside what looked like a traveling cloak. He looked at Elle in shock, but instantly regained a calm and cool composure. He straightened up.  
  
“Good morning,” he said, in a smooth, sultry voice. “Forgive my intrusion. I hope I did not startle you.”  
  
Elle shook her head, trying to hide her surprise. She had almost forgotten the way Damien’s icy black gaze made her feel.   
  
“Not at all,” she said breathlessly, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal. “It’s Damien, right?” she asked, taking a stab at being friendly, despite the circumstances. As if she could ever forget him.  
  
He nodded slowly. Elle didn’t know what else to say, so she asked politely, “Can I help you?”  
  
Damien was now looking at her strangely, an odd gleam in his frozen stare. Elle tried not to look into his eyes, but it was hard to focus her attention elsewhere.  
  
“I was abroad when I heard the news of my fiancée’s unfortunate death. I traveled here at once to see if there was anything I could do,” he finally answered.  
  
“Oh,” said Elle hastily, looking away. She wondered what he was doing abroad. Cameron had never mentioned what he did for a living.   
  
“Well, I’ve got everything taken care of, but if you want to look around for some of Cameron’s belongings, you’re more than welcome. I’m sure she would’ve wanted you to have them.”  
  
“Thank you,” Damien replied, without a hint of actual gratitude. “I’ll do that.”  
  
Elle looked at him uneasily. There was just something about him that wasn’t right. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t seem to contain any remorse for the death of her cousin, or maybe it was the way he almost seemed to be sneering at her, even though his words were well-mannered and courteous. She was having second thoughts about letting Damien roam around the house by himself, but she had already offered, so there was nothing she could do. She took a few steps back.  
  
“Alright,” she said. “Her room is just around the corner.” She pointed him in the right direction. “I’ll be upstairs. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”  
  
Damien disappeared down the hallway, the heels of his shoes echoing off the tile. Elle waited until he was out of sight, and then shuddered.  
  
Regretting the idea of agreeing to come here today, she gingerly made her way back upstairs, expecting to see Harry waiting for her at the top of the stairwell. Surprisingly, the upstairs hallway was empty. Elle heard the distinct pounding of some sort of heavy metal music, and stopped in her tracks. Who would be playing that sort of music this early in the morning?  
  
Elle looked around, officially creeped out. “Harry?” she called out, wondering where he could’ve went.  
  
“In here!” he answered back, his voice coming from the secret room that Elle had shown him over the summer. She followed the sound of his voice, and when she entered the room, she was taken aback at the sight of Harry standing beside the window, looking down on the street below.  
  
The room was practically bare, since Elle had already taken most of the possessions, expecting never to return here again. She was just about to ask what Harry was doing in here, when Harry turned around and faced her.  
  
“So, who was it?” he asked.  
  
Elle shrugged. “My cousin’s fiancé,” she muttered distractedly. “Damien. He came here to look at some of her stuff.”  
  
Harry gave her an odd look. “That’s a little strange,” he remarked. “How did he get in?”  
  
At this, Elle looked confused. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Cameron might’ve given him a spare key. How else could he have entered?”  
  
Harry frowned. “Then what was that noise we heard?” he asked. “Didn’t it sound like…it almost sounded as if someone were…”  
  
“Apparating,” they both said at the same time, locking eyes.  
  
Elle’s head swam with a million different reactions.  _It’s impossible_ , she mused.  _There’s no possible way Damien could’ve apparated, because then he would have to be a…_  
  
“No,” she spoke out loud. “It can’t be.”  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows at her.  
  
“He is not a wizard, Harry,” Elle continued, trying to be reasonable.  
  
When Harry’s expression didn’t change, she swallowed and looked away. It was an absurd idea, but she refused to be proven wrong. Why would Cameron get engaged to a  _wizard_?  
  
She looked past Harry and walked over to the window, gazing down upon where Harry had been looking. “What are you looking at, anyway?” she asked, eager to change the subject.  
  
Harry turned and looked out the window with her. “There are a couple of guys down there shouting and cursing,” he told her. “I think they’re trying to pick a fight with someone.” He groaned. “Don’t you hear that awful music? It’s even worse than yours!”  
  
Without a second thought, Elle pointed her finger at the window, causing it to bang open. She leaned out, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Lower the music, morons!”  
  
Harry winced. “You don’t exactly know the meaning of subtle, do you?”  
  
Elle shook her head and, aggravated, turned on her heel and started for the door.  
  
“Where are you going?” Harry asked quickly.  
  
Elle shook her head, but kept on walking. “I’ve had enough of this,” she answered, sounding incredibly irritated. “I swear to you Harry, I’m in no mood to deal with this today!”  
  
Harry stood there, blinking at the back of her retreating head, and without waiting a moment longer, ran after her. She was moving surprisingly fast, and before Harry knew it they were down the stairs and out the door, inches away from the gang of boys who were flinging their fists and shouting swear words.  
  
The boys flung their heads around as the two of them came outside, and Harry instantly felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He recognized the group of boys instantly: Dudley’s Gang.  
  
Harry wasn’t at all surprised to see them still hanging around Privet Drive; they were all too stupid and lazy to get summer jobs, or spend their time doing something worthwhile. Instead, they were too busy wasting their days terrorizing poor, pathetic ten year-olds around the neighborhood.  
  
And they all looked exactly the same; there was Piers Polkiss, the same scrawny, rat-faced boy, a few ugly gits (two of which he vaguely remembered as being named Malcolm and Gordon), and there, in the center, was none other than Dudley Dursley.  
  
As Dudley raised his eyes to meet Harry’s, Harry could sense that his cousin wasn’t at all pleased to see him- especially in front of his faithful gang. Harry grinned; this was exactly what he had been waiting for all these years. He didn’t have to worry about getting expelled from school anymore; let Dudley and his gang try to terrorize him. He was ready for them.  
  
He could see the other boys exchange looks, huge smirks on their faces. A small sandy-haired, freckled boy who looked to be around twelve years old was standing off to the side, quivering with fear. Harry was just about to open his mouth to say something, but was abruptly brought back to reality by Elle reaching out and touching his arm, as though she had just realized her mistake and was now trying to restrain him from lashing out. She had recognized Dudley too.   
  
“Well, well, what do we have here?” one of the boys near the back sneered at them.  
  
“Hey Dud, isn’t that your weirdo cousin?” another asked.  
  
“Yeah, the one who attends St. Brutus’s?”  
  
Dudley nodded, his cheeks turning red. He looked down at his feet. Dudley knew what damage Harry could do to him with his wand; he wouldn’t dare taunt his cousin anymore, yet wouldn’t dare be taken as a coward by his friends either. Harry would’ve loved to stand there, watching Dudley squirm with this newfound dilemma, but he knew there were more important matters to be getting on with. It was childish to just stand there all day, seeking revenge on old rivalries.  
  
Elle stared up at Harry, perplexed. “What’s St. Brutus’s?” she asked.  
  
The other boys sniggered. “Look here boys,” Piers remarked, scrunching up his face. The effect made him appear even more rodent-like. “It seems as if our friend brought back a criminal girlfriend.” He balled his hands into fists and tilted his head towards Harry. “Didn’t I used to use you as a punching bag?”  
  
Dudley looked even more uncomfortable. He wouldn’t even look at Harry now.  
  
Elle narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but who do you think you are? And why were you picking on a little kid?”  
  
Piers smirked. “I think the better question is, who do you think YOU are? You really think we’re going to listen to a little twig like you?” He sneered at her even more. “You’re just like him; a dirty, rotten criminal.”  
  
The others laughed at this, and began to mock and shout insults at them. Dudley gave a reluctant laugh. While they were distracted, Harry saw the sandy-haired boy turn and scurry away, before anybody could call him back to resume the relentless ridiculing.  
  
In anger, Harry found himself reaching for his wand, and in an instant he was pointing it right under Piers’ nose, for the entire world to see. He was fuming.  
  
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that!” he shouted furiously, causing tiny red sparks to emit from the end of his wand.  
  
Piers, Dudley, and the rest of the boys backed up a few steps, all of them now staring at him fearfully. Nobody was laughing anymore. Elle was also looking at him a little uneasily.  
  
“Harry, it’s okay,” she said firmly. “You don’t have to do this. Put the wand down.”  
  
“No,” Harry retorted stubbornly. “You don’t understand. These are the people who used to make my life hell,” he said coldly. “It’s time for a little payback.”  
  
Piers spat on the ground. “We’re not afraid of your stupid stick,” he said bitterly. “Are we boys?”  
  
There was scattered murmuring, and most of them shook their heads, though Harry still caught some scared, fleeting looks towards the wand clutched determinedly in his hand. Dudley remained staring at his feet. It was as if he were incapable of bodily movement.  
  
Piers looked up at Harry, a nasty gleam in his eyes. “We’ll take you on anytime,” he said grimly, raising his fists. He looked towards Dudley. “Come on, Big D, what’s wrong with you? Back me up!”  
  
When Dudley didn’t move, Piers grew angrier. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’re afraid of his idiotic stick!” he said in exasperation. “Show him who he’s dealing with! Teach him a lesson!”  
  
Harry could see the inner battle going on inside his cousin. Dudley knew that him and his gang were no match for Harry’s magic. Slowly, Dudley looked up to face Piers, and narrowed his round, piggy eyes. Taking a deep breath, he said quietly and calmly, “Leave him alone.”  
  
Piers’ eyes grew wide as he stared open-mouthed at Dudley. “WHAT did you just say?” he asked icily, enraged.  
  
Dudley swallowed hard, but didn’t waver. “You heard me,” he spoke, a little stronger this time. “Leave him alone.”  
  
Piers reduced his eyes to slits, and his face grew very red. “Why should I? Him and his nasty little girlfriend deserve to be beaten to a pulp. But if you want to stick up for him, go ahead.” He prepared himself to fight. “I always knew there was a little bit of a freak in you, too.”  
  
It all happened very quickly. Dudley drew back a fist and punched Piers in the nose, just as Harry bellowed, “Tarantallegra!”  
  
Piers stumbled back a few steps, clutching his nose; around the same time sparks from Harry’s wand hit him straight in the legs. Immediately, his legs began to jerk wildly from underneath him in all directions, causing the rest of the boys to move away in surprise. Their astonishment, however, turned quickly to amusement as they all roared with laughter, and took turns pointing and jeering at the sight of Piers trying to keep his balance. The look on the boy’s face was priceless; it was a look of humiliation and shame, and Harry knew that Piers was more embarrassed at this moment than any of the numerous kids he had bullied in the past.  
  
After a while, Harry raised his wand once more and said simply, “Finite.”  
  
Piers’ dancing legs ceased, and he collapsed to the ground. The laughter quickly came to a halt. Harry stuffed his wand in his pocket and glared at Piers.  
  
“Don’t you ever,” he said, as menacingly as he could, “and I mean ever, bully anyone again. I promise you, one more word out of your mouth, and you’ll get a lot worse than this. Do you understand me?”  
  
Piers nodded, his face white and his lip quivering.  
  
Harry lifted his head, filled with pride. “Good,” he said. “Now get out of here.”  
  
Piers quickly scrambled to his feet and, shooting mutinous looks at the other boys, instantly hurried away with his posse close behind him. Dudley, after a few moments, looked tentatively up at Harry, and to his surprise, Harry found himself looking back.

As they locked eyes, Harry felt something he had never felt about Dudley before. He still didn’t exactly like his cousin but, miraculously, they seemed to have bridged a certain understanding between the two of them that wasn’t quite there before. After all those years of taunting and arguing, they both seemed to have finally grown out of it.  
  
Dudley quickly looked away, growing a little red in the face. “Um, I guess I’ll see you around,” he muttered, turning away.  
  
"No, you won't," Harry told him. "I won't be coming back to Privet Drive. I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye," he added, and suddenly, he really meant it.  
  
Dudley gave him an uncertain smile. "Goodbye, then," he said, nodding, and shoving his hands into his pockets. Harry felt that Dudley meant it too.   
  
“Hey Dud,” Harry called out, as his cousin started towards the house.  
  
Dudley turned around. “What?” he asked.  
  
Harry threw him a half-grin. “Thanks,” he said slowly, not quite being able to believe that he had actually said that word.  
  
Dudley amazingly, grinned back. “No problem,” he answered, before adding, “You saved my life, back then, with those things in the alley. This was the least I could do.”  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and merely nodded. Dudley nodded too, before he turned and disappeared inside.  
  
Harry turned towards Elle, who was wearing a very mystified expression.  
  
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand you and your cousin,” she remarked, squinting at him with her hands crossed over her chest.  
  
Harry shook his head. “Don’t even begin to try,” he replied.  
  
Elle smiled. “You’re going to get in so much trouble, you know.”  
  
Harry sighed. “I know, I know, I performed magic in front of muggles,” he said grudgingly. “But hey, it was self-defense.”  
  
“Self-defense my ass,” she said. “You were just having fun.”  
  
Harry shrugged. “He deserved it. Come on, what do you reckon we get out of this place? We have to get to the meeting anyway.”  
  
Elle slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh right, the meeting! I completely forgot!” she exclaimed. “Just wait out here for me, I’ll get our stuff.”  
  
She raced back inside her aunt and uncle’s house and up the stairs, where she grabbed the little bag that contained the few items she had decided not to sell. However, as she descended the stairs, the sound of sharp, rasping breath stopped her in her tracks.  
  
“What now?” she whispered to herself, peering over the edge of the banister. Seeing nothing, she quickly tiptoed down the rest of the stairs, pausing just outside of the living room. Peering sideways around the corner and into the room, she gasped and dropped her bag.  
  
It was Damien. His face seemed to be distorted in pain, and he was clutching his wrist. Or rather, clutching what was on his wrist. Just above his forearm, in black ink, was a marking in the distinct shape of a skull, with a serpent twisting its way out of the mouth.  
  
The mark appeared to be causing Damien great suffering, for in the next instant he had grabbed his traveling cloak from the floor, pulled a wand out from inside of it, and right in front of Elle’s eyes, disappeared with a very clear and very loud  _CRACK!_

* * *

“He’s a Death Eater!” Elle cried, staring up at Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her intently. “Are you certain?”  
  
“Of course I’m certain!” she exclaimed. “He had the skull thingy tattooed on his wrist! He's the murderer who killed my family!”  
  
“You mean the Dark Mark?” Draco said with a yawn.  
  
“Yeah, that!” she replied hysterically. “All I know, is that I saw him holding his wrist, and then the next thing I knew, he had disapparated!”  
  
Everybody at the Order meeting stared at her in alarm. Elle was standing in the center of the room, explaining what she had seen to the other members. She and Harry had raced as quickly as they could from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place the second Elle had ran out of her aunt and uncle’s house. Harry had always had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn’t right with Damien, and now that he knew he was a Death Eater, a lot of things seemed to make sense. His cold demeanor, his shifty attitude, his unmistakable curtness toward Elle...  
  
Dumbledore stood up from his seat, his expression unreadable. “Did he see you?” he asked Elle.  
  
Elle shook her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied, taking a deep breath to calm down. “But what does this mean?”  
  
“It means this man must have been after you from the very beginning,” Moody growled. “The only reason I can think of for him to pretend to be close with your cousin, is to gain more information about you. He’s probably been following you everywhere, and reporting back to Voldemort.”  
  
“But I don’t get it,” Elle said. “What information about me could he possibly give to Voldemort?”  
  
“Plenty,” Lupin answered her. “Any bit of news he could get his hands on. Anything that he could use against you and Harry.”  
  
Elle and Harry glanced at each other, thinking of all the information he had on them. Elle's powers, their sword fighting lessons, and most importantly...their love for each other. She looked back towards Dumbledore.   
  
“But this still doesn’t make any sense,” she argued. “Damien had plenty of chances to kill me, why didn’t he just get it over with? I mean, I was alone with him downstairs. There were plenty of times I was alone at Hogwarts. He could have murdered me at any time!”  
  
Dumbledore and the rest of the adults shared dark looks.

“That can only mean one thing,” he said slowly. “Voldemort must be planning something big, something that will catch us all off guard. And he must have concocted a plot that involves you. Why else would he have made sure you stayed alive?”  
  
Elle looked Dumbledore in the eye. “What sort of plot?” she asked.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. “One can only imagine,” he replied. “But we must find out.” His gaze fell on Harry, who was also staring at him. “And to find out, we must first find Damien. He doesn't know that you saw him, so we should use that to our advantage.”  
  
There was silence in the room, before Hermione hesitantly raised her hand to speak. “But Sir,” she asked cautiously, “how are we to find him? He could be hiding anywhere.”  
  
Elle looked up, her eyes wide and round. “The funeral,” she whispered.  
  
Ron looked up at her. “What did you say?” he asked.  
  
Elle cleared her throat. “The funeral,” she repeated, louder this time. “There will be a funeral for my aunt, uncle, and cousin. Damien will surely be there. If not, it would look suspicious.” She looked towards Harry. “There is a good friend of my aunts who, if I ask her, will be delighted to plan a funeral. If we went to the funeral, maybe by some chance we could, like, force Damien to tell us where Voldemort’s hideout is, and his plans.”  
  
Everybody looked in Dumbledore’s direction, to see what he thought of this idea. Dumbledore seemed to be considering it, though his gaze never faltered.  
  
“It will be risky,” he said after a while. “But it’s the best we’ve got. Once Damien tells us where his master is hiding, then we can go after him.”  
  
“All of us have to go?” Dean asked, looking a little nervous.  
  
“All of us,” Dumbledore confirmed. “We can formulate our plans further once we know where we’re headed. But for now, the best we can do is to keep preparing so that when the time comes to fight, we are ready.”  
  
“I’ll find out when the funeral is,” Elle said. “My aunt and her friend were very close. I’ll make sure I speak with her soon; she won't want to put this off for long.”  
  
“Very well,” Dumbledore responded. He sat back down. “You are free to go,” he told everyone.  
  
Everybody stood up and began whispering and chatting with each other. Lupin and McGonagall led the way out of the room, and as people started filtering out, Harry walked up to Dumbledore. Elle had run off to go and talk with Lavender.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. “Ah, Harry, I was just looking for you.” He leaned in a little closer. “I have found you and Elle a place to stay.”  
  
Harry stared at his former Headmaster. “But we’re already staying at the Burrow,” he told him, confused.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. “No, no, I mean I’ve found you a place to live. Permanently.”  
  
Harry blinked. “Where is it?” he asked.  
  
“It’s quite small, but I’m sure once you get, er, used to it, you’ll like it very much. I’ve already been there to apply the proper protection spells and charms. It’s unplottable, and nobody will be able to apparate or disapparate within ten miles of it.” He smiled. “Voldemort, and now Damien, will have a hard time finding you there. Only those who know the exact address, or follow you there on foot, will know where it is. Also, the building is under a Fidelius charm.” 

Harry frowned. “But then, who will be our Secret Keeper? Ron and Hermione are too obvious…”

“As am I,” Dumbledore added. “I’ve asked the person no one would suspect, and he’s agreed. Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry stared at Dumbledore, open-mouthed. “Malfoy’s agreed to be our Secret Keeper?” he asked dubiously. “And you think he can be trusted?”

Dumbledore nodded. “I think Draco has proved himself. You may not be the best of friends, but I am sure he will help protect you and Elle.”  
  
Harry gazed at Dumbledore. Aside from this startling news, he was extremely impressed at the lengths Dumbledore had gone to for them. “Wow. Professor, you didn’t have to…”  
  
Dumbledore waved an arm. “It’s the least I could do for you letting us use Sirius’s home as headquarters. And I had a feeling the two of you would not want to remain at the Burrow much longer.”  
  
Harry grinned. Elle came running up to Harry, with Ron and Hermione right next to her.  
  
“I just talked to Lavender,” she said, looking a little happier than she had this morning. “She’s agreed to be a bridesmaid.” Elle looked from Dumbledore to Harry, and frowned. “What’s going on?” she asked.  
  
Harry smiled. “He’s found us a flat!” he told her excitedly. Elle’s eyes widened.  
  
“Really?” she asked. “Where? How?”  
  
Dumbledore took the next minute to explain to them in full detail the extent to which this property had been protected, and how the Fidelius Charm worked. By the time he was done, Elle and Harry were both feeling lots better, and much more optimistic- even with Malfoy’s involvement. However, Harry wondered why Dumbledore kept repeating over and over that the place might need to be fixed up.  
  
“That sounds amazing. When can we move in?” Elle asked. Dumbledore laughed.  
  
“Right after the wedding, if you wish,” he replied calmly. “And right before all four of you begin Auror training,” he added, winking.  
  
“All four of us?” Ron questioned, coming up beside them.  
  
Dumbledore shrugged. “Of course you don’t have to,” he said. “But I believe that the four of you will make very fine Aurors indeed.” He got up, and began making his way out of the room, before Harry stopped him.  
  
“Um, Sir?” he called out. “There’s one more thing we wanted to ask you.”  
  
Dumbledore stopped and turned around. “Yes?” he asked patiently.  
  
Harry shot a look at Elle. “Well, um, the wedding’s coming up soon, and, we really haven’t thought of anyone to marry us, so, um…”  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand. “It would be my pleasure.” His eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles as Harry and Elle shared relieved looks.  
  
“Thank you,” Elle told him gratefully, squeezing Harry’s hand.  
  
“Just as long as I am invited to the reception. I do love a good wedding cake.”

* * *

“You called for me, Master?” Damien quivered.  
  
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “I am thrilled to say that the potion is nearing completion,” he said. “Only a few more key ingredients, and then we can add the girl’s blood. There is just one problem.”  
  
Damien stood up slowly, shaking slightly, but trying to redeem his composure. “What’s that, my Lord?” he mumbled.  
  
Voldemort slammed down a copy of the Daily Prophet right in front of Damien’s face, causing him to flinch. “ _This_ ,” he snarled.  
  
Damien gazed down at the picture and scanned the headline quickly. “Getting married?” he said quietly, his eyes still glued to the front page.  
  
Voldemort snatched back the paper and instantly set it to flames with his wand. “I should have known about this sooner,” he hissed. “It is your job to report back to me the very second you find out something of importance!”  
  
Damien looked down. “I am sorry, my Lord,” he muttered. “I was preoccupied…”  
  
“That is not good enough!” Voldemort shouted. “When I give you orders, you follow them! Crucio!”  
  
The curse hit Damien straight in the chest and he immediately fell to the floor, writhing in agony. When Voldemort lifted his wand, Damien continued to lie on the floor, trembling more than ever.  
  
“Get up!” Voldemort spat.  
  
Damien scrambled awkwardly to his feet, but hung his head. Voldemort’s eyes glowed with anger as he surveyed him with the utmost disgust.  
  
“We must wait until after their wedding to do anything about the girl,” he said. “Dumbledore will surely be there, and we can’t accomplish anything with him around. After the potion is complete, and we have taken her, we will prepare our army. Potter won’t be able to stand the temptation of running after her and playing the hero. And then, with the help of the potion, and our weapons…” he drew a long, glinting sword, allowing it to glitter in the darkness, “We’ll kill him.”  
  
Damien nodded, taking deep breaths. Voldemort raised his head.  
  
"Of course, you have done moderately well. The murder of the girl's family was done smoothly. You will attend the funeral- the longer you keep your cover, the more we can secure information on the Order's weapons."  
  
Damien bowed his head, knowing far less how to respond to praise than he did on how to respond to cruelty.   
  
Voldemort peered at him closely, as if trying to decide whether his blunders were worth the achievements. “Find out exactly when the wedding will be,” he said icily to Damien. “We shall postpone our plans until afterwards. Do not disappoint me.”  
  
Damien shook his head. “I won’t let you down, Master,” he said, his voice firm. “I will not fail you.”  
  



	33. Life is About to Get Interesting

The weeks that remained before Harry and Elle's wedding were packed with numerous plans and details that Harry quickly grew tired of. Worse, Hermione had begun pestering him about writing his vows, and when she found out he hadn't been planning on writing any, she took it upon herself to help him out.  
  
He, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in Ron's bedroom at the Burrow, while Elle was out with Lavender shopping for a bridesmaid dress. Hermione was doing most of the talking; Ron and Harry were just sitting on the bed, wearing matching expressions of boredom. Hermione was sitting on the floor, surrounded by assorted lists, invitations, and pieces of parchment. She had been sitting there with her head down for about twenty minutes, until she looked up and saw that Harry and Ron were not paying her the slightest bit of attention.  
  
"Right," she said with a little frown, gazing around at the sheet in front of her, quill in one hand. "I've just finished arranging your guest list and seating arrangements. You had it all wrong before, I'm afraid. You can't just let people sit wherever they want, they must be in some sort of order..." she glanced up at Harry, who was looking in the other direction, seemingly in a daze. "I don't know about you, but having Dean and Snape next to each other seems a tad awkward..."

“Why is Snape even invited to your wedding?” Ron asked incredulously.

“We had to invite the whole Order, for extra protection,” Harry said wearily. “I suppose we have to feed them too.”   
  
"Harry!" Hermione said urgently, sounding a little irritated. "Have you been listening to me?"  
  
"Of course," he argued, struggling to stay focused. He paused. "Um, what were you saying before the Snape bit?" he asked feebly.  
  
Hermione sighed, as Ron sniggered. "Harry, your wedding is less than two weeks away, and if you don't start organizing it now then the whole thing could be a complete disaster, and as your best friend it is my duty to..."  
  
"Whoa, calm down Hermione," Harry said, totally relaxed. "Everything's going to be fine."  
  
Ron laughed. "Shouldn't this be the other way around?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Isn't the groom supposed to be the tense one?”  
  
Hermione gave him a stern look, and then glanced back at Harry. "I think it’s time we start working on writing your vows now," she said, producing a fresh sheet of parchment and placing it in front of her.  
  
Harry put his hands over his face and groaned. "Come on Hermione, why bother?" he asked in aggravation. "I don't want to bore everybody with some long speech expressing my feelings. Besides, Elle and I aren't that sentimental."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but her words got lost as they all heard the sound of someone coming up the stairs. A second later, Elle herself stepped into the room, her face obscured from view by the numerous shopping bags she was holding.  
  
"Did somebody say my name?" she asked, sounding out of breath and exhausted. She put down the bags and smiled at the three of them, tucking wisps of hair behind her ears. "What are you guys up to?" she asked perkily, sitting down next to Hermione on the floor and kicking off her sandals.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Your fiancé here is refusing to write his vows," she pointed out crossly.  
  
Elle looked at Harry, her face full of relief. "Oh good," she said. "I would've had no idea what to write anyway."  
  
Hermione stared at Elle, her mouth slightly open in mild surprise. "But, the only reason I was pressuring Harry to write them was because I thought YOU wanted him to!" she exclaimed. "You mean to say that both of you have no interest in exchanging vows?"  
  
Harry and Elle both shook their heads. Hermione shrugged.  
  
"Oh well," she said, crumbling the piece of parchment. "You know, most people look forward to writing them..."  
  
"Yeah Hermione," said Harry teasingly. "But you know we're not like most people."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"It’s okay Hermione", Elle said, grabbing one of her bags and standing up quickly, dragging Hermione up with her. "Don't worry about it. Besides, I bought you something." She handed Hermione the bag for her to open.  
  
"Wow," said Hermione, pulling out a pretty beaded hairpiece. "For me?"  
  
"For you," Elle confirmed, taking it from her and gently placing it in Hermione's hair. "I saw it and thought it would go really well with the dress you picked out. Do you like it?" she asked worriedly. "I mean, I know you're not into hair accessories and all that, but..."  
  
"I love it," Hermione interrupted, examining her reflection in a mirror on top of the wardrobe. "But you didn't have to get me anything."  
  
Elle grinned. "I know. But it's the least I could do for my maid of honor."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Uh, Elle, aren't we supposed to be saving money?" he asked, eyeing her shopping bags doubtfully.  
  
Elle shrugged. "We'll start saving after the wedding," she replied. “After all, I didn't sell my aunt and uncle's possessions for nothing."  
  
Ron and Harry glanced at each other.  
  
"Alright, can we please stop talking about this stuff?" Ron asked, yawning. "Don't you guys have anything better to discuss than money and your hair?"  
  
"Honestly Ron, you know I NEVER talk about my hair," Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips. "But is it a crime to want to look nice for once?"  
  
"I didn't say you didn't look nice!" Ron replied hastily.  
  
"Well, I wish I could say the same for you..."  
  
"Hey, are those the returned invitations on the floor?" Elle asked quickly, before Ron and Hermione could start bickering again. She grabbed a bunch and plopped herself down on the bed between Harry and Ron, looking them over. "Oh yes, Brian and Ally have agreed to come!" she announced happily, glancing down at their two invitations.  
  
"They're coming here all the way from California?" Harry asked, surprised.  
  
Elle nodded. "I guess," she answered. Then, without warning, she let out an excited shriek, causing the three of them to jump.  
  
"I can't believe in less than two weeks we're going to be married!" she squealed, hugging her knees.  
  
Her excitement was contagious, and soon Harry found himself grinning as well. Now that he was officially eighteen, he felt more grown up and ready than ever.  
  
Ron gave him a weird look. Catching sight of his face, Harry turned around to gaze at his friend.  
  
"What?" he asked, wondering why Ron was staring at him like that.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Nothing," he said, glancing down, and suddenly looking uncomfortable. "It's just going to feel strange, you know? I mean, who knows when we're going to be able to hang out like this again after you two are married?"  
  
Hermione tilted her head and looked over at them. "Ron's right, you know," she said gently. "After the wedding, you two are going to want to be alone more often, and you'll have other responsibilities. You soon won't even have time to see us anymore!" she added in a light voice, though Harry could tell she was serious.  
  
Elle and Harry shared a disbelieving glance. "What are you talking about?" Harry asked them. "What other responsibilities could we possibly have?"  
  
"You guys, nothing’s going to change," Elle insisted.  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.   
  
"I don't know," Hermione replied with a sigh. "I just have a feeling that everything is going to change."

* * *

The rest of the week passed by quickly- in fact, almost too quickly. The conversation with Ron and Hermione had left Harry with a sour taste, and even though none of them had mentioned another word about it, Harry still felt a little uneasy whenever he was around his two friends.

Was it true? Were things really going to change that much? He hadn't thought about what would change at the time he had proposed, but now he was worried. The only difference he could think of was that he and Elle would now be living on their own, but other than that, he didn't know what the big deal was. It wasn't like they were about to do anything drastic.  
  
He shook his head. Ron and Hermione were probably just worrying for nothing. It was only natural, of course, since it had been just the three of them for so long. Once the wedding was over, things would go back to normal. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.  
  
On the night before the wedding, things were hectic. They had finally decided on having a nice, quiet, outdoor wedding right near the village of Hogsmeade, and Harry planned on leaving early the next morning with Ron so that they could be the first ones there and put the protection spells in place. But he had to admit; he was slowly starting to get nervous. In fact, he hadn't remembered feeling this anxious since the weeks before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. It was finally hitting him that after tomorrow, there was no going back.   
  
Harry wasn't so sure if Elle fully realized this yet, and upon discovering this thought, a new fear entered his head. What if she suddenly changed her mind? What if for some reason, when it came time to say, "I do", her words failed her?  
  
As he lay awake in bed, he went over these ideas again and again, while he tossed and turned. He knew there was no way he'd be able to get any sleep like this, and he couldn't go around the next day feeling exhausted. So, being careful not to wake Ron, he quietly opened the door and crept up the stairs to where Elle was sleeping in Ginny's room.

Hermione and Ginny, deciding to let Elle have a long, quiet, good night's sleep, had agreed to sleep in Bill's empty room, giving Elle some privacy despite her protests that she preferred the company.  
  
As Harry reached the door, he gave a soft knock and let himself in, trying to see his way through the darkness. Unfortunately, his vision was totally obscured, and he ended up noisily stubbing his toe right into the wall.  
  
"Ouch!" he exclaimed, forgetting to keep his voice down.  
  
Elle shot up in bed, looking around wildly. Her hands flashed warningly, but then her eyes fell on Harry. He was bouncing up and down on one foot, holding his toe.  
  
"My future husband," she whispered, amused. "What are you doing in here?"  
  
Harry put his foot down and tiptoed carefully over to her bed. "Nothing," he whispered. "I just wanted to see you."  
  
Elle sighed, and put a hand over her chest. "You scared me," she whispered back.

She made room for Harry on the bed, and as he lay down beside her she caught the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows.  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "I don’t know," he replied. He gave a sheepish grin. "I guess I'm just a little nervous about tomorrow, that's all."  
  
Elle smiled. "I am too," she admitted quietly. She looked up at him tentatively. "Are you sure you're not going to change your mind?" she asked uneasily.  
  
Harry laughed. "I was just wondering the same thing about you," he revealed. "No, of course I'm not going to change my mind. I'm the one who asked you in the first place, remember?"  
  
"Who could forget?" Elle said, laughing lightly. She tilted her head to the side. "Maybe we should just elope," she joked. "You know, the whole Vegas, drive-through wedding thing?"  
  
"Nah, I'm saving that for my second marriage," Harry grinned. "Besides, it's too late now."  
  
He kissed her then, letting all his worries fade away in one single touch, and ran his hands along her body. Elle shivered from his touch and kissed him back for a while, but then pulled away, a mischievous grin spreading over her face.  
  
"You know, we should really save this for our wedding night," she said softly.  
  
"I know," said Harry, feeling quite mischievous himself. "But I can't wait until then."  
  
She giggled slightly and reached to pull him down on top of her, kissing him and trying to untangle herself from the covers at the same time. Suddenly, they heard a door slam from somewhere inside the house, which caused them both to separate quickly.  
  
"What was that?" Elle asked, back to whispering.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Probably someone on their way back from the bathroom or something," he answered. He sat up, and straightened out the covers for her. "Oh, and before I forget, I have something for you...a pre-wedding gift, I guess..."  
  
Elle buried her face in her hands. "Oh man, I didn't know we were supposed to get each other gifts!" she murmured into her palms. "Isn't marrying you enough?"  
  
Harry laughed. "Relax," he said. "Open your eyes."  
  
Elle looked up, and saw Harry holding a pair of earrings in his hand. He must have been storing them in his pocket.  
  
"My mother's earrings," she whispered quietly, reaching out for the gold studs and holding them delicately up to her face. She could feel her eyes watering. "How did you get these?"  
  
Harry grinned gently. "I took them while we were at Privet Drive, cleaning out your Aunt and Uncle's house," he explained. "I noticed you had left them behind, and thought you might want them for tomorrow."  
  
Elle swallowed, and pushed her hair back from her face. "I thought I wouldn't want to see these again," she admitted sheepishly. "They brought back too much pain." She fingered the earrings fondly. "But you're right," she said, beaming at Harry. "I'm glad I have them. I can't wait to wear them tomorrow, for the first time. I think my mom would have wanted me to. It’ll be like having her there with me."   
  
"I think she would as well," Harry said sincerely. "She sounds like a smart woman, just like her daughter."

Elle smiled sadly. “I just wish my father could be there, to give me away,” she said. “But I’ll just give myself away, I guess.”

Harry sighed. “I wish my parents could be there tomorrow too,” he said. “But we’ll have other family.” He took a deep breath. "I should probably go," he said, giving her one final kiss before standing up.  
  
Elle sighed, and lay back down. "Okay," she replied, yawning and closing her eyes. "Goodnight.”  
  
Harry laughed and crept back towards the door. "Sweet dreams," he called, before disappearing into the hallway.  
  


* * *

 

The night seemed to last forever. Finally, morning came. Elle woke up early (which in itself was extremely unusual), feeling deliciously excited and nervous at the same time. She could not believe that the day of her wedding was finally here, and that in a few hours her and Harry would officially be husband and wife.  
  
She looked towards the window, and was even more pleased to see sunlight streaming in. She had been worried about the possibility of rain. Elle stretched her arms up over her head. Everything, for once, was turning out perfectly. The weather was perfect. The dress was perfect. Her hair was perfect-  _wait a minute_ , Elle thought, running her hands through her hair. What was that sticky stuff that wouldn't seem to come off the back of her head?  
  
Fear flooded her, as she remembered popping a stick of gum in her mouth to calm her nerves after Harry had left the bedroom last night. How could she have forgotten to take it out?  
  
Quicker than a speeding curse, she raced towards the mirror, and upon eyeing her reflection, let out an earsplitting scream.  
  
Footsteps thudded throughout the house, and a split-second later Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door, all three of them out of breath and looking scared beyond their wits. Hermione reached her first.  
  
"Elle, what is it?" she asked, looking terrified. "You aren't hurt, are you?"  
  
"Did somebody attack you?" Ginny asked, white-faced.  
  
"Something much, much worse," Elle replied shakily. "Look!"  
  
She turned around and held up her hair, revealing the sticky, disastrous mess of gum that was tangled amongst the strands. Hermione and Ginny gasped in horror, and Mrs. Weasley looked quite taken aback.  
  
"Oh my," she said softly, holding up a hand to her chest.  
  
Fred and George, who were staying at the Burrow for the occasion, made their way into the room. Both were quite disheveled, and still in their pajamas.  
  
"Did somebody scream?" George asked, yawning.  
  
He and Fred both looked up and caught sight of Elle. They shared a quick glance, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.  
  
"Boys!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley.  
  
The three girls all stood glaring at them menacingly. Fred and George both gulped.  
  
"What, we didn't do anything!" Fred insisted, holding up his hands and backing away.  
  
Elle buried her face in her hands. "It's all my fault," she groaned miserably. "How could I have been such an idiot?"  
  
"Well, actually..." George started, but then stopped as he caught the threatening gleam in his mother's eye. "We were, ah, just leaving," he said quickly instead.  
  
"Yeah," added Fred. "We've got to go warn Harry."  
  
"He might have second thoughts..."  
  
"Since your hair now looks like it's been attacked by a troll..."  
  
"Out!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, interrupting their tirade before Elle exploded in anger.  
  
Without waiting another instant, they both bolted from the room, but they all could hear the twins laughing uproariously down the hall. Ginny sighed.  
  
"There's only one way to sort this out," she said, disappearing from the room and returning a few moments later with a jar full of peanut butter.  
  
"You're making me a snack?" Elle asked doubtfully.  
  
Ginny laughed. "Not exactly. This is the ultimate cure for getting rid of gum from your hair. I thought you of all people would've known that."  
  
"Peanut butter is the ultimate cure?" Elle exclaimed in disbelief. "Isn't there a spell or something that could remove it?"  
  
"Sorry Elle, no instant charms on hair care," Ginny replied, scooping out a handful of goopy, creamy peanut butter onto a spoon and dumping it onto Elle's messy mane. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”   
  
"Yuck," Hermione and Elle both let out, as Ginny raked more and more of the stuff through Elle's tresses.  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked worried. "I'll make sure the boys go and get ready," she announced, bustling around the room. "I'll be back soon with your dresses, and then we'll be ready to leave. Do you think you'll be done by then?" she asked her daughter tensely.  
  
Ginny nodded. "Should be," she answered.  
  
"Good," said Mrs. Weasley. "Harry, Ron, and Arthur have already left, so don't bother looking for them. I'll be back in a moment, holler if you need anything."  
  
Mrs. Weasley left the room, and Ginny tried her best to sort out Elle's hair. To Elle’s relief, the gum finally came free, but now Elle's tangled hair was a bigger mess than ever...and plus, it reeked of peanut butter. After rinsing it out in the sink, Elle attempted to magically dry it, but it still came out all frizzy, and was sticking up all over the place. Elle kicked the dresser, filled to the brim with frustration, but it only earned her more pain as now her toe had a bruise.  
  
"I can't believe this, we're witches, aren't we?" she cried out in desperation. "There's got to be an easier way to fix this!"  
  
"Everything alright?" Mrs. Weasley called as she marched back into the room, carrying Hermione and Ginny's dresses, along with Elle's white wedding dress. "There's somebody here for you," she added with a smile, stepping aside.  
  
A second later, Lavender appeared in the doorway, dressed spectacularly in the purple gown she had picked out for the occasion. She looked tremendously excited.  
  
"Hi Lavender!" Elle greeted from her position in front of the mirror.  
  
Lavender let out a laugh as she entered the room. "Wow, it looks like a war zone in here," she commented. She went to stand next to Elle. "What happened to you?" she asked, looking amused.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Only the worst thing that could ever happen to a girl on her wedding day," she replied. She gazed toward Lavender pleadingly. "Please, please, please tell me you can help me!" she begged pathetically.  
  
Lavender giggled. "I'll try my best," she said, reaching for her wand and the hair supplies that lay scattered all over the dresser.  
  
Mrs. Weasley laid out the gowns carefully on the bed. "I've put a spell on these so that they will refrain from getting dirty," she told the three pointedly. "But do be careful all the same. Arthur will be coming in thirty minutes to pick us up; he's borrowed a Ministry car. Do you think you'll all be ready by then?"  
  
"Yes," the girls echoed in unison.  
  
It took the whole thirty minutes. By the time they heard Mr. Weasley's honk from outside, they were already exhausted, though satisfied with the way they looked. Elle had helped Hermione and Ginny put their hair up in French twists, and Lavender assisted Elle by pulling the top part of her hair back in little braids, and leaving the rest hanging down over her shoulders, long and spilling with waves. She had managed to get rid of the peanut butter, but a strong scent remained.  
  
"It should stay like this for a while," Lavender told her. "Let's just hope nobody notices that you smell like a sandwich."  
  
"Thank you so much, Lavender," Elle replied gratefully.  
  
"Girls!" Mrs. Weasley cried, coming up to fetch them. "Hurry up, you don't want to be late to your own wedding, do you? You all look lovely-now let's get a move on!"  
  
Five minutes later, they all piled into the car, and before they knew it they were off in a fit of squeals and giggles.

* * *

Harry circled around the little waiting area, his heart pounding faster than ever. He couldn't seem to stay still for an instant- every time he sat down, he bounced back up, and every time he began to pace, his legs felt as if they were made of lead. He hadn't expected to feel this nervous. He had faced far worse than this. But as his nerves overtook his senses, he found that compared to fighting off Dementors, Death Eaters, and Dragons, this was by far more terrifying. How was he ever going to go through with this? He was going to make a complete fool of himself.  
  
"Harry," said Ron, coming in to stay with him. "People are starting to arrive. The protection spells have been put up, and the Order are on stand-by in case any unwanted guests show up." He took a good look at Harry's distracted, panicked face. "You alright, mate?"  
  
Harry stared at him. "Do I bloody look alright?" he asked exasperatedly.  
  
Ron laughed. "Don't worry about it," he told him. "Just keep in mind that if you do screw up out there, we can always modify people's memories so nobody will remember how incredibly stupid you were."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "You know Ron, I don't remember actually asking for your advice," he pointed out.  
  
"I know," said Ron. "But that's what I'm here for." 

He sighed, his expression suddenly changing from one of amusement, to a more solemn one. "Do you really like her?" he asked questioningly.  
  
Harry looked up. "Who?" he asked, completely lost.  
  
"Elle," Ron said, looking down and jiggling his foot.  
  
Harry sighed, and then grinned. "Yeah," he said, after thinking about it for a moment. "I really, really do."  
  
Ron realized how stupid he sounded, and grinned as well. But he still didn't look up. "What if, like, you suddenly get tired of her or something?"  
  
Harry gave him a wide-eyed stare. "Please tell me you're not being serious," he remarked.  
  
Ron held up his hands. "I'm just asking!" he defended himself.  
  
Harry shook his head. "You know, a best man is supposed to be encouraging," he remarked critically.  
  
Ron nodded, and sighed again. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry." He straightened up, and raised his hand. "Kick ass, mate."  
  
They high-fived, and Harry resumed his pacing. A couple of minutes later, Mr. Weasley poked his head around the corner, dressed in his best dress robes.  
  
"You boys about ready?" he asked. "Dumbledore's just arrived; the wedding's going to start soon."  
  
Harry nodded and took a deep breath. "Ron said we’re prepared for wedding crashers?” he asked Mr. Weasley, with a knowing look.  
  
Mr. Weasley grimaced. “We’re prepared, and we have someone from the Order specifically on look-out for Death Eaters,” he answered seriously. “So, just focus on getting married!”   
  
Harry grinned. “Then I'm ready," he said, though he felt quite the opposite.  
  
Mr. Weasley slapped him on the back. "That's the spirit," he said positively. "Oh, and by the way, the girls are finally here." He gave Harry a kind smile. "She's beautiful, Harry," he added with a wink.  
  
Harry gave him a grateful grin. "Thanks," he replied. He couldn't wait to see Elle. He had a feeling that once he did, he would feel a lot better.  
  
Mr. Weasley left them alone, and Harry and Ron exchanged looks.  
  
"So," said Ron, trying to ease Harry up a bit. "Here goes nothing?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No," he answered, leading the way out. "Here goes everything."

* * *

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, I'm going to die...I mean, I'm seriously going to die...I can't believe I'm doing this, I'm going to make a complete fool of myself, oh my God..."  
  
"Elle, you HAVE to calm down," Hermione instructed, grabbing her friend by the shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Deep breaths," she commanded. “No panicking today.”  
  
Elle closed her eyes, swallowed, and followed Hermione's orders.  
  
"There," said Hermione, sounding satisfied. "Now isn't that better?"  
  
Elle gazed at Hermione. "I think I'm going to have a heart attack," she said weakly, anxiously running her fingers through her hair.  
  
Hermione sighed. "You're going to be fine," she soothed. "Everything's going to go alright, you'll see."  
  
"I don't even know why I'm so nervous!" Elle cried. "I mean, it's only Harry, who I've seen practically every day for the past two years! Why do I feel as if I'm about to faint?"  
  
She began to pace back and forth, lost in her own thoughts, and succeeded in running smack into Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, who had just come back from greeting the crowd.  
  
"Oh my gosh, I'm really sorry!" she apologized, stepping back and trying to steady herself.  
  
"No problem," Ginny laughed. "Feeling like a nervous wreck?"  
  
Elle nodded. "Just a little," she sighed. “I feel better knowing Dumbledore let me keep my dagger in this corset, though. You all have your swords, right?”

Hermione, Lavender, and Ginny nodded, turning around. Elle could see the outline of their swords through their dresses, but just barely.

“And Harry doesn’t know we have these, do we?” Elle asked, raising an amused eyebrow. 

Hermione shook her head ruefully. “Are you kidding? Harry’s nervous enough as it is.” She gave a tragic sigh. “Men are so fragile.”

"What's happening out there?" Elle asked Ginny.   
  
"Well, everybody's pretty much here," Ginny replied. She laughed. "You should see all the guys in their dress robes. They look so adorable!"  
  
"I want to see!" Elle said, and began to go and look, but Mrs. Weasley stopped her.  
  
"I'm afraid you're going to have to wait, my dear, the wedding is about to begin," she said hurriedly. "I must get going, I only came here to wish you luck."  
  
"Oh, okay," said Elle, taking a few more quick, deep breaths "Thank you."  
  
Ginny, Hermione, and Lavender all wished her luck and gave her a hug before making their way out of the room, since they were to walk down the aisle before her.  
  
Once Elle was alone in the room, she opened the little compact mirror that she had brought with her and gazed at her reflection. She had decided at the last minute not to wear a veil, so her hair (which Hermione had woven tiny white flowers in) flowed loosely over her shoulders. She tried to appear confident and ready, but her eyes remained wide and scared. Her mother's earrings gave a slight twinkle from her earlobes, giving her strength.   
  
She heard movement by the door and slowly turned around. "Brian!" she shrieked, spying the tall boy lurking in the doorway and snapping the compact shut.  
  
"Hi," he grinned down at her, dressed in a modest suit and tie. "Ally guessed you'd be in here, all alone." He eyed her up and down. "You clean up nice," he said, giving her a small hug.   
  
"As do you," Elle replied, returning the hug. She stepped back, and gave Brian a slight twirl. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she sighed. "I mean, I love Harry, but I really thought my parents would be here to see me get married. I always wanted my dad to walk me down the aisle."  
  
"That's what I'm here for," Brian grinned, holding out his arm. "It was Ally's idea. I'm not letting you go out there alone. And I won't let you trip, cross my heart."  
  
Elle laughed, and wrapped her arm around Brian's, squeezing it tightly. “You knew my parents, Brian, do you think they would have approved?”  
  
Brian grinned. “Of Harry?” he asked, in mock surprise. “Of course! They would have been so proud of you. Your parents were the coolest.” He straightened up. “Now, let’s get you down the aisle without any crying or vomiting- this suit is just a rental.”   
  
"Thanks Brian," Elle said softly, trying not to tear up and ruin her makeup. "I'm glad you're here to give me away."   
  
She gazed at the bouquet of white lilies Mrs. Weasley had given her to carry. They gently rose into the air and floated over to her, coming to a stop gently in front of her face. She took them, swallowed hard, and prayed that she wouldn't make a fool of herself while walking down the aisle.  
  


* * *

Harry held his breath as he watched Hermione, Ginny, and Lavender all walk down the aisle in a row, knowing that Elle would come next. Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were standing behind him, ready to give their support at a moment's notice, but he couldn't turn around. He didn't think he could move at all. Every limb in his body seemed to be permanently frozen. Why was this taking so long?

  
He surveyed the crowd while he waited and saw McGonagall, Lupin, Ally, and Hagrid sitting in the front row. Lupin gave him a reassuring wink, and Harry felt a little bit better. But then a second later, a fluttering chorus of music arose, and all the guests stood up from their seats. Harry's nerves returned.  
  
And then there she was. Carrying a simple array of flowers, and looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her, was Elle. She was coming towards him slowly, and as she walked Harry could feel his face light up. Even from where he was standing, he could see a brilliant sparkle shining from her eyes, as if she had captured dancing emerald flames and stored them in her stare.

 

Brian was with her, silently guiding her towards him. He gave Harry a comforting grin.   
  
Harry grinned back, and his stomach somersaulted as Elle looked up and smiled at him, and they both laughed to themselves. To all the others watching, it appeared as if they were sharing a silent joke.  
  
 _How does she do it_? Harry thought.  _She doesn't look nervous at all._

* * *

_Wow, he doesn't look nervous at all_ , Elle thought to herself, gripping the flowers tightly and walking extremely slow to avoid tripping on the hem of her dress. Looking at Harry, she couldn't seem to stop laughing, so she decided to view the crowd instead. They were all standing and staring at her, which was a little unnerving, but she immediately caught the eyes of Ally and Luna. They both grinned and waved at her, and she waved back. The only person who seemed to be missing was Malfoy.  
  
Thankfully, she made it to the front without doing anything completely embarrassing, and handed the bouquet over to Hermione. Then, body slightly trembling, she faced Harry, and Brian placed her hand into his, before giving Elle one last wink and settling down into a seat next to Ally.   
  
Harry grinned down at her.  
  
"Hi," he whispered.  
  
"Hi," she whispered back, beaming.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat, and everyone settled back down in their seats. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. "We are gathered here today..."  
  
As Dumbledore began talking, Elle sighed. A soft breeze filtered past them, and she could hear birds chirping from a couple of feet away. She started to fidget, and her mind wandered to somewhere around later that night- it would be their first night as a married couple...  
  
As she continued to daydream, she felt a sharp tap near her ankle, and looked down to see that Harry had just kicked her.  
  
"What was that for?" she mouthed silently, as Dumbledore kept talking.  
  
Harry jerked his head towards Dumbledore, and Elle rolled her eyes. Obviously, he wanted her to pay attention.  
  
Harry caught the eye roll, and scrunched up his own eyes and nose in a weird face. Elle bit her lip and tried to look away, but he kept doing it. Finally, she couldn't help it anymore. She busted out laughing, and the second she did, Harry started laughing with her- right in the middle of Dumbledore's speech.  
  
Dumbledore stopped talking, and the guests shared amused looks. Hermione shook her head in dismay, and Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville all smirked. Elle saw this and stopped laughing immediately.  
  
 _Oh no_ , she thought.  _Everybody's going to hate us now; we've totally ruined the whole wedding..._  
  
Dumbledore didn't look angry though. He waited until they all grew quiet and then continued speaking, only this time his dialogue was quite different.  
  
"Obviously, this is not the time or place for long, boring speeches," he said lightly. "Since I know these two are quite anxious to start their new lives together, I'll just skip right to the important stuff, shall I?"  
  
Elle and Harry nodded gratefully, and everyone laughed.  
  
"But before I do," Dumbledore continued. "I would just like to say one thing. It has been a great pleasure guiding these two over the past years at Hogwarts, and it has been equally pleasing watching them fall in love. After all, love is a tricky thing. It not only has the power to break rules and boundaries- it changes them completely. And this sort of love has the power to change everything." He gazed at Harry and Elle.  
  
"The two of you may be young, but I know that you can make this work. Why, even the wisest of adults have trouble keeping love alive. I wish the both of you every bit of luck, and every ounce of strength.”  
  
He looked up. "Now we can bring this to a close."  
  
Harry kept his head down as they exchanged rings, his nervousness fading quickly. Dumbledore's words had meant a lot to him, and by looking at Elle's overly bright eyes, he knew that she was touched as well. Dumbledore focused his attention on Harry.  
  
"Harry James Potter," he stated seriously. "Do you take Danielle Levine to be your wife?"  
  
"I do," he said, his tone soft and serious.  
  
Elle smiled warmly at him, her face relaxing. Dumbledore nodded appraisingly.  
  
"And do you, Danielle Levine, take Harry James Potter to be your husband?"  
  
"Yeah," she answered, and then added quickly, "I mean, I do."  
  
There was more laughter, and Elle's cheeks turned slightly red. Harry beamed at her, flooded with relief. Dumbledore took a step back.  
  
"Very well," he said. "I now pronounce you bonded for life. Harry, you may kiss your bride."  
  
Harry and Elle both laughed happily, before Elle reached her arms up around his neck and pulled Harry's face towards her, kissing him deeply. Harry put his arms around her waist, hoisted her up and twirled her around, so that they were kissing and spinning at the same time.  
  
Everybody cheered, and Harry could hear Fred and George wolf-whistling loudly through their teeth. Hermione snapped pictures of them with a muggle camera she had borrowed, and Ginny and Lavender amused themselves by tossing rose petals everywhere. When the two broke apart, Elle noticed Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall both standing together, dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs.  
  
Taking her hand, Harry led Elle back down the aisle; he could not contain his happiness any longer.  
  
"Can you believe it?" Elle shouted in his ear, bouncing up and down as everybody behind them got up to head over to the reception. "We're married! We're really, really married!!"  
  
"You know what this means?" Harry shouted back to her.  
  
"No, what?" she asked.  
  
"That I'm stuck with you forever!" 

* * *

 

Later that afternoon at the reception, the playful and entertaining mood from the wedding remained. Sweet, uplifting, romantic music filled the room, and nearly everybody was either dancing or eating slices of the delicious wedding cake. Champagne and butterbeer were flowing through tall, sparkling glasses, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.  
  
Elle and Harry danced a couple of times together, but were mainly mingling around the room, greeting everyone and thanking them for coming. Elle spotted Dumbledore entertaining members of the Order on one side of the room, and left Harry to approach him.  
  
"Sir?" she asked, tapping him on the shoulder.  
  
He turned around. "Well, if it isn't the bride," he said pleasantly.  
  
"I just wanted to thank you,” she said, giving him a smile. "You didn't have to do all this for us..."  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand. "You are quite welcome." He held up a plate. "Excellent cake, by the way."  
  
She laughed, but not before she heard a loud shriek coming over from the food table.  
  
"Elle!" Ally shouted, running over to her. Before Elle could say another word, Ally had bowled her over and enveloped her into a super big bear hug. "I can't believe you're married now!" she squealed, tears of joy running down her face. She giggled. "You and Harry were too hilarious- Brian and I were cracking up."  
  
"I'm so glad the two of you came!" Elle said ecstatically.  
  
"Are you insane?" Brian replied. "We wouldn't miss this for the world."  
  
Elle stepped back, and Brian nodded towards Dumbledore. "Are you going to introduce us anytime soon?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at Elle.  
  
"Oh yes, sorry about that," she responded, straightening up. "Brian, Ally, this is Albus Dumbledore. He's the Headmaster at Hogwarts."  
  
Dumbledore bowed his head towards them. Ally's eyes widened.  
  
"Wow," she said, sounding awed. "You’re, like, the greatest wizard ever!"  
  
Dumbledore shrugged. "Some may have a different opinion," he replied, with just the right amount of modesty. "It is very nice to meet you both."  
  
"You too, Sir," said Brian, impressed as well.  
  
As Dumbledore continued to get acquainted with Elle's friends, Lupin and McGonagall, both wearing smiles, approached Harry.  
  
"Congratulations, Harry," Lupin said.  
  
"Thanks," Harry replied. "I'm glad you could make it."  
  
"Yes, well, it's a good thing tonight's not a full moon," he laughed.  
  
"It was a beautiful wedding," McGonagall told Harry, her eyes still shining with tears, and shocked everyone by wrapping her arms around the boy. Harry hadn't expected such behavior from his former professor, and he awkwardly patted her on the back until she pulled away and resumed her stern expression.  
  
"Just make sure to always be good to your wife," she commanded strictly, pointing a finger at him.  
  
"I will," Harry promised.  
  
"And to always stay faithful to her," she added.  
  
"I will," Harry assured her.  
  
"And to be protective of her," she went on.  
  
Harry sighed. "I will," he repeated.  
  
"And, and..." McGonagall seemed to be searching for the right words to use. "And no babies until you two are ready, understand?"  
  
Harry immediately choked, his face flaming at the thought of McGonagall mentioning that sort of thing. Hermione and Ron hid their faces, both containing their laughter.  
  
"I understand," he mumbled, his cheeks burning.  
  
McGonagall nodded, satisfied, and her and Lupin left. A few moments later, Elle appeared at his side.  
  
"Hey," she said, smiling at them all. "What was that about?"  
  
Ron shook his head. "You don't want to know," he answered.  
  
Harry looked up, his face returning to normal. "Where were you?" he asked.  
  
Elle shrugged. "I introduced Brian and Ally to Dumbledore," she explained.

At that moment, Ginny suddenly came running up to them, her eyes wide and her red hair flying.

“Don’t be alarmed,” she muttered to Hermione and Elle. “But Damien was spotted…” 

“What?” Hermione and Elle shouted together. Elle grabbed Lavender, who was standing close by, and in an instant all three of them had pulled out their swords. The guests surrounding the girls shrieked and stepped back. Harry and Ron gaped at the girls holding the blades, shocked.

“No, no it’s okay!” Ginny said, holding her hands up. “Dra- I mean, one of the Order spotted him, but our protection spells work. He wasn’t able to see us or enter the reception.”

Elle, Hermione, and Lavender all breathed a sigh of relief, and lowered their swords. Hermione stowed hers in the back of her dress again.

“Wait a minute!” Ron said, dumbfounded. “You guys got to bring your swords to the wedding?”

“How come you didn’t tell us?” Harry asked, slightly aggravated.

Ginny laughed. “As if we need men defending our honor,” she joked, rolling her eyes. 

Hermione laughed too. “Honestly Ron, they were only for protection,” she said, shrugging. “We got special permission from Dumbledore. This wedding could have been the perfect target for an attack, you know.” She gave the boys a self-satisfied smirk and tucked a stray piece of brown hair behind her ears.

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Where were you keeping them?” he asked, still mystified.

Elle laughed, and Harry looked at her in admiration. 

“Okay, it’s official,” he said, grinning. “I definitely have the most badass wife on the planet.”

Elle tilted her head to the side and gave him a playful grin. "So," she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger and holding her dagger with the other hand. "When did you want to get out of here?" she asked in a low voice.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows at her seductive tone. "Well," he said, taking a moment to ponder the thought. "We’ve had our first dance, we’ve cut the cake, we’ve heard the toasts…I think we've done about all that we can here..."  
  
Ron and Hermione shared a look. "You two can go if you like," Hermione suggested knowingly. "Ron and I will cover for you."  
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "You two deserve some time to be alone. And we deserve to have the rest of the cake."  
  
Harry grinned. "That we do," he stated, taking Elle's hand. "Don't we, Mrs. Potter?" he added.  
  
"Hmm," said Elle, leaning against Harry. "Mrs. Potter." She shrugged. "I could get used to that.”  
  
Hermione laughed, as Elle tossed her the bouquet.

"Go on," she said. "We'll see you two soon. Congratulations again!"  
  
"And have a good, er, wedding night!" Ron called, winking, as Harry and Elle dashed off.

* * *

 

The night sky twinkled through the open windows of Hogsmeade's finest inn, as Harry and Elle made their way into the room. Harry, who was carrying Elle over to the bed, gently laid her down and crawled in after her. She kicked off her shoes and took her hair down, shaking it away from her face.  
  
"I seriously have to take this dress off before I suffocate," she said, pulling at the satin gown.  
  
Harry grinned devilishly. "Let me help," he said, unzipping the back for her and sliding it down her body. The dress fell to the floor in a creamy white heap.  
  
"Thanks," Elle said, sitting up and sliding Harry's jacket off his arms. "My turn." She threw his jacket aside.  
  
Harry laughed and moved closer to her, pulling off his shirt. "I don't know about you, but I remember what happened the last time we were in a hotel," he said teasingly, removing his pants and shoes.  
  
Elle nodded. "So do I," she whispered, helping him as he untied her corset. "You suck at this, you know."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I’m just watching out for more weapons,” he replied, half joking, half serious.   
  
Elle bit her lip. "I can leave the dagger on the nightstand,” she said slyly.   
  
Without wasting another second, Harry tossed aside the rest of their underclothes, pushed Elle down against the sheets, and kissed her in what he hoped was a dashing, sexy maneuver. Elle responded by laughing at him.  
  
"You're so funny," she said, wriggling out from underneath him and pushing him down.  
  
He didn't answer, only continued to grin and kiss her as he pulled her down on top of him. She grabbed the covers and wrapped it around their two entangled bodies, just as Harry took a second to come up for air.  
  
"Wait a minute," he said. "Before we continue, can I ask you something?"  
  
Elle looked confused. "Sure," she said sweetly, running her hands up and down his chest. "Anything."  
  
"Is there a reason your hair smells like peanut butter?" he asked.  
  
Elle giggled. "It's a long story," she answered. She stroked his hair and gave him an intoxicating grin. She kind of liked this feeling of control.

“Want to jump in the shower and help me wash it out?” she asked, biting her lip and shaking her long hair in his face. 

Harry grinned enthusiastically at this idea. “Yes!” he replied, jumping off the bed.

He picked her up by the waist and carried her over to the shower. Leaning against the shower wall, they pressed against each other as the hot water rained over them. 

Harry kissed his new wife’s neck, and she bent her head underneath the stream.

"Why do you have to be so wonderful, Mr. Potter?” she breathed, trying to keep her composure.   
  
Harry continued to nuzzle her neck, barely in control of his own senses. "YOU are wonderful," he responded, his breath coming out staggered. "Mrs. Potter." 

It was the most heavenly shower Harry had ever remembered taking, and it took them a long time before they returned to the bed.   
  



	34. The Newlyweds

Their wedding night was wonderful, and as they woke up the next morning in each other's arms, they felt all the more ecstatic that this was the way things were going to be forever. They had no regrets in their decision to marry so young...at least, none so far. They figured nothing could keep them away from each other now, not even Voldemort; the Dark Lord had kept quiet for so long, that some of his threat seemed to have a lessened a little.

Harry felt as if he were invincible, that nothing could drag him down from this incredible high, and Elle, in turn, felt that her life had finally found meaning, and that she and Harry would live happily ever after.  
  
Needless to say, they were in for a  _rude_  awakening.  
  
Neither one could pinpoint the exact moment when reality had chosen to slap them across the face. But it had to be something, because after their first few days of marriage, something just wasn't the same. Harry and Elle both felt the difference, even if they couldn't figure out exactly what it was. Perhaps it was just the fact that they were now going to be living on their own, and could no longer depend on anybody else to satisfy their needs. Adapting to this sort of change takes time; to make a smooth transition from one place to another, things needed to be taken slowly.   
  
But of course, Harry and Elle never did anything at a slow pace, and so the very day after their wedding, they packed up their things from the Burrow and moved into their new flat.  
  
Enlisting the help of Ron and Hermione, they made their way to their new home. Harry was carrying both of their trunks, and Elle was holding Hedwig's cage in one arm and the glass cage containing her golden butterfly in the other. They expected to be greeted by a lovely little two-story cottage, the likes of which you only see in fairy tales, complete with a white picket fence and a cute little garden out front. Much to their dismay, they came upon what looked like...there was no other word for it... _a dump._  
  
Gasping as the flat came into view, they were horrified at the sight of the rickety, steel fence that surrounded their home like a prison cell, the peeling of the stale, yellow paint coming off the walls that must have once been white, and the putrid smell billowing out around them that could only be coming from the overturned trash bins littering the front yard. Elle and Harry couldn't refrain from gaping open-mouthed at the appalling sight.  
  
"THIS is where we're going to live?" Elle asked in disbelief, her expectant expression she had worn quickly fading. Hedwig gave a dissatisfied hoot and covered her face with her wing.  
  
Ron turned to Harry. “Are you sure Dumbledore gave you the right address?”  
  
Harry frowned, peering closely at the piece of paper in his hand. “Yeah, this has got to be it. Malfoy’s secret keeper, and only the six of us know the location.”

Ron grunted. “I’d hate to see the smirk on Malfoy’s face when he saw this place,” he said grumpily. “I still can’t believe _he’s_ your secret keeper.”   
  
Hermione tried to look positive. "Well, he was the perfect choice- any Death Eater targeting you would suspect Ron and I straight away," she began apprehensively. "And about the house, well, Dumbledore  _did_  say it would need fixing up. At least you won’t have to worry about noisy neighbors!”   
  
It needed much more than fixing up. The carpeting that covered the floor of the entire building was snagged and stained, the walls were coming apart (as well as the ceiling), and there seemed to be dust covering just about everything. There were shards of glass glistening on the kitchen floor, and two of the windows in the back of the house were broken, their frames flapping nosily in the wind.

The four of them stood in the middle of the living room, speechless, when a large black cockroach shot out from under the dilapidated refrigerator, and scattered right in front of them.  
  
Elle dropped the cages she was carrying and let out a shriek.  

“For goodness sake, you can carry a sword, but are scared of a cockroach?” Ron asked, covering his ears.

Elle glared at him. “Look who’s talking, you’re terrified of spiders!”   
  
Without breaking his gaze, Harry lifted his foot and smashed the cockroach, leaving a brown, squishy substance on the floor. He then proceeded to bend down and let Hedwig out of her cage, which was now rolling on the ground. Hedwig glared at Elle, and fluttered to the top of some shelves that stood just below the ceiling.  
  
Silence fell, and Ron and Hermione stood together uncomfortably.  
  
"I guess this place definitely  _could_  use some renovation," Ron remarked, struggling to stay optimistic.  
  
"It's beyond renovation," Elle said, with a look of distaste. She brightened up for a moment as a sudden idea struck her. "Hey, do you think we could stay with you guys at the Burrow for just a little longer, at least until Dumbledore finds us another place?"  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.  
  
"Um, the truth is, my parents think that now you two are married, it would be best if you stayed together in your own home. You know, so you guys can have your privacy," Ron mumbled.   
  
"Besides," said Hermione, giving them a sympathetic smile. "Dumbledore must have gone through a lot of trouble to put up the protection spells. It would take up even more of his time to find you a new place that's capable of handling those measures."  
  
Harry and Elle stared at them, shocked.  
  
"Do you  _see_  this place?" Harry asked.  
  
He went over to the sink and turned on the faucet. Green, murky water shot out of it, splashing the nearby counter and floor with its residue. Elle scrunched up her nose, and Ron and Hermione raised their eyebrows.  
  
"Dumbledore can't possibly expect us to live here," he continued, as if this were obvious.

“How about getting Dobby or Kreacher to help?” Ron suggested brightly.

“Too risky,” Harry said, shaking his head. “They’re both working in the kitchens at Hogwarts, and I’m sure they could apparate here, but someone could grab hold of them to try to find our location.”   
  
Hermione stared around helplessly. "Well, it's not  _that_  bad," she reasoned. "I reckon it's only a couple of days’ worth redecorating, and after that it will be good as new. You'll see." She shrugged. "At least it comes with furniture, right?"  
  
Harry sighed. He had seen the furniture on his way in, and all he could say was, if that spindly little kitchen table, squeaky, hole-ridden bed, and uncomfortable, puke-colored sofa were the only furniture they were supposed to be living with, they were in serious trouble.  
  
Ron and Hermione stayed awhile and tried to help make the place as presentable as they could, but left once it became clear that Harry and Elle were not going to stop bugging them about staying at the Burrow. So, the two were left alone in the enormous pigsty, with no one to come up with a better option, or lend a helping hand.

Harry felt ashamed. After growing up in a cupboard under the stairs, and spending summers in the smallest bedroom enduring torture from the Dursley’s, he knew he should be grateful for any home- especially one that was so well protected. However, he wanted to provide a good life for his new wife, and he had to admit, this wasn’t turning out to be a very auspicious start.   
  
"This sucks!" Elle declared, flopping down onto the couch, but she sprang back up again to find that a dead rat was lying on top of the cushions.

"Ugh, gross" she said, picking it up with the tips of her fingers and flinging the rodent away from her. It hit the ceiling, and as it did so one of the ceiling tiles came crashing down to the floor along with the rat, smashing into a thousand pieces.  
  
Harry and Elle stood there in complete silence, looking at the mess. Then Harry snorted, and as Elle gazed at him in surprise, she saw that he was laughing. Elle sighed, and soon found herself giggling too. What else were they supposed to do? Their whole situation was so pathetic, that all there was left to do was laugh.  
  
Soon, they were practically rolling on the floor with laughter among all the scattered pieces of glass and tile, and of course, the dead rat and cockroach slime. It was disgusting and hilarious and upsetting, but it was the only way they knew how to deal with it.

Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position and dragged Elle up with him. The ends of her hair skimmed the floor, and it was probably getting insanely dirty, but for once she didn't care about her hair. She had to take a shower, but was afraid to look in the bathroom. Harry laughed as he surveyed what a mess she had become.

"Why did I have to marry such a dork?" he asked teasingly, taking deep breaths to control his laughter.  
  
"I ask myself that same question," Elle replied. Her clothes had become covered in the dust that littered the floor, but as she tried to wipe herself off, she realized that it was no use. "We really have to clean this place up," she observed, looking around. Her face was serious, but a hiccup escaped her mouth.  
  
Harry smirked. "Yeah, but I don't want to," he said, pouting like a little boy. He grabbed Elle and rolled on top of her, and she shrieked with surprise.  
  
"Get off!" she commanded, trying to push him away. When he didn't move, she rolled her eyes, and said, "Come on Harry, we can't have hot, passionate sex on this disgusting floor!"  
  
"Why not?" came Harry's muffled voice.  
  
Elle sighed, trying not to think about what kind of diseases they were cavorting around in. She shook her head and finally threw him off her.

“Because I’ll need a tetanus shot as soon as we’re done.”   
  
Harry stood up, pretending to be offended. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint," he said sullenly, moving away from her.  
  
Elle laughed and grabbed hold of his leg before he could move any farther. He stopped, and stared down at her with one eyebrow raised.  
  
"Excuse me? Just what do you think you're doing?" he asked, in fake annoyance. "I thought you weren't interested."  
  
She grinned, and lifted her hand. "Help me up?" she requested.  
  
Harry grabbed her arm, hoisting her to her feet. She brushed herself off and cast another weary eye around the room. Harry gently took her by the chin and turned her face toward him.

“I’m sorry about this house, Elle,” he said sincerely. “This isn’t how I wanted our life together to start.”

Elle smiled, cupping his cheek with her palm. “This isn’t your fault, Harry,” she said calmly. “It’s actually not so bad- think about how well protected we are! Besides, with you here, I have everything I could ever want.”

Harry grinned, and the two shared a kiss.

“We’re going to make a wonderful life here,” Harry whispered, and Elle beamed at him.   
  
"Okay, then," she said in a business-like tone, making her way across the living room. "I think we should start in here..."  
  
She hopped up onto the counter, which was a very brave move since the counter was already completely filthy, and stood to see what was in the cabinets that were positioned against the wall near the ceiling. But before she could get a good look, she slipped on some green, murky water that still lay on top of the counter, and came crashing to the floor, landing flat on her butt.  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, biting the insides of his cheeks.  
  
Elle groaned, not moving from her position on the floor. Her face showed a combination of frustration and pain. "That's going to leave a mark," she sighed.  
  
Harry let out a deep breath and shook his head. "This could take a while," he said, gazing over the new mess Elle had just created.  
  
“Never mind,” Elle said bracingly, getting up gingerly. She ran to the trunks they had packed, which held all their belongings from Hogwarts, the Burrow, and various wedding gifts. She rummaged around in her trunk for a bit, before pulling out a homemade blanket Mrs. Weasley had knitted them, as well as a few candles she had rescued from her old bedroom.

Before Harry could ask what she was doing, she laid the blanket across the living room floor, placed the candles on top of it, and lit them with a wave of her hand.

She sat on the blanket and Harry quickly sat beside her, their shoulders touching. They stared together out of the broken windows and sighed in unison. The candles flickered, and they sat in silence for a few moments. With the glow from the firelight, the house looked almost peaceful.

Harry gazed at Elle lovingly. “You have big dreams for decorating this place, huh?” he asked. He could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “A lot of ideas?”

Elle nodded. “A million,” she whispered, grabbing his hand.

Harry squeezed her hand in return, and pretended to toast her with an imaginary glass. “To a million dreams, then.”

Elle smiled, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and pretended to clink a glass to his.

“To a million dreams.”

 

* * *

 

The next few days were, well, pretty chaotic. No matter how hard Harry and Elle tried to fix up their new home, even with the help of magic, it still ended up looking like a complete disaster. A lot of the dirt and mold seemed to have permanent sticking charms on them, and Harry found himself skimming a lot of muggle plumbing manuals to find out to fix the faucet. Elle took care of the electrical side, determining the best way to ensure that the fridge stayed on, and that the broken lights would get fixed. Their first nights of marriage were spent skimming household manuals and spellbooks by wandlight. 

Aside from trying to make their residence livable, an Order meeting was held that week. It was one of the last meetings of the summer, before Dumbledore and the rest of the professors traveled back to school for the start of the new year, in which Ginny and Luna would be attending for their seventh and final year. Not to mention, there were also upcoming apparating exams to prepare for, and both Harry and Elle had scheduled to take theirs soon. With everything approaching at once, the two found it even tougher to get used to this new way of living- with each other.  
  
Harry knew that it would take some time to get completely comfortable in their new residence; what he didn't know, however, was Elle's at-home habits. The only things they had gotten around to purchasing were a new bed, a table, and a small television, but his dear wife had managed to trip or spill something on each of them. Even though it wasn't her fault, Harry found the constant clumsiness to be extremely unnerving.  
  
Harry also came to realize that Elle didn't just sleep like a normal person; she tossed and turned the entire night, and it was only when she fell into a deep sleep that she became still. She also left a huge mess in every room she went into; if she was in the bathroom, then the sink would always be left running...if she was in the bedroom, then her clothes would be strewn all over the floor...and if she were in the kitchen, you could bet that food would be left out on the counter every single time.  
  
Elle, in turn, found some of Harry's qualities to be especially aggravating. Like, the fact that he would never let her change the channel whenever Quidditch was on (they received a few magical games and sports channels, as well as the Wizarding News Network), and how he hogged all the covers that lay over the bed at night, leaving her freezing cold half the time. Elle had to admit, there wasn’t anything romantic about that, but she guessed it was just another thing she had to get used to.  
  
One afternoon, Elle sent Harry out to pick up some food, since their kitchen was bare. In the meantime, she had decided to get to work on brightening up the inside of their flat, starting with changing the colors of the walls. They had gotten rid of all the bugs and rodents, cleaned up all the trash, fixed the plumbing and broken windowpanes, and eliminated the odor and dust, but the atmosphere still looked dank and grimy.  
  
She had been at it for quite a while, concentrating so hard on the brilliant colors flashing before her eyes on the dismal, gray surface of the wall, that she didn't even hear Harry come in the door. He was laden down by bag after bag of groceries, but quickly set the bags down and came up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.  
  
Elle jumped in surprise. "Oh good, you're home," she said delightedly, whipping around and draping her arms around his neck. "I was just doing a little decorating."  
  
"Yeah, I can see that," Harry said, raising his eyebrows at the flashing colors blazing brilliantly at him from the other side of the living room.  
  
"Watch," Elle began, letting go of Harry and turning back around to face the wall. "Just let me know when to stop."  
  
She closed her eyes, and the colors began to flash even more rapidly, in every shade and color that Harry could ever imagine. After a few moments, he gave a reluctant "stop", and the movement of the colors halted.

Elle opened her eyes, but then immediately narrowed them in distaste, and turned to face Harry.  
  
"Bright green?" she asked disbelievingly. "I could be wrong, but isn't the whole point NOT to make people want to scream and run away whenever they walk in here?"  
  
Harry smirked. "Since when did we care what people think?" he replied, mimicking Elle's old quote.  
  
She rolled her eyes in response and made her way to the kitchen, where Harry had put down the food.  
  
"Hungry?" he asked sarcastically, as he eyed her going through all the bags. When she didn't answer, he sighed and flopped down onto the couch, making sure to check beforehand whether any dead animals were lying there.  
  
He closed his eyes. These last few days had been exhausting. Who knew that moving into a new place and getting used to living with another person would take so much time and energy?  
  
"Hey, Harry?" he heard Elle call from the next room.  
  
He groaned, but not loudly enough so that she could hear. "Yeah?" he called back.  
  
She came into the room with a little half-grin on her face. "Harry, did you know that you bought dog food?" she asked.  
  
Harry shrugged, his eyes still closed. "So?" he replied.  
  
Elle sighed, and gave him a piercing look. "We don't have a dog," she stated.  
  
Harry opened one eye and fixed her with a long, dumb stare. "Oops. Sorry. I had meant to buy owl food."  
  
Elle looked concerned. "Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly.  
  
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He sat up. "I guess this whole thing is just going to take a while to get used to, that's all." He looked at her, and grinned apologetically. "I mean, within the past couple days we've started this whole new life. And you can't say it's been easy."  
  
Elle nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean," she said. "I don't know why, but things just feel so different." She shrugged. "But it'll get better though. I mean it has to, right?" she asked, looking to Harry for a confirmation.  
  
Harry nodded. "We'll feel comfortable here in no time," he replied. "And if things get worse, we have our whole lives to make them better again," he added.  
  
He didn't know if he actually made sense or not, but it seemed to be the right thing to say, because Elle's whole face brightened, and she leaned in to kiss him. They kissed for a few minutes, until a sudden realization hit him, and he broke away suddenly.  
  
"What is it?" Elle asked at the look on his face.  
  
"We have to meet with the Order tonight," Harry said.  
  
Elle made a face. "How about it we just skip the meeting this time?" she suggested, giving Harry a hopeful glance.  
  
Harry gave her a look. "Elle, we can't just skip meetings whenever we feel like it," he told her. "We're members, we have to go."  
  
Elle waved her hand carelessly. "I know that," she said. She grinned playfully. "But think about it. If we skip the meeting, we could stay here, just the two of us. Maybe light some candles, play a little music, close the shades..." Her eyes glinted mischievously. "Do you see where I'm going with this? I did clean the sheets, after all..."  
  
Harry sighed again. He knew what Elle was trying to do, and a part of him was very tempted to give in, but he knew that if they didn't show up there would be serious consequences. Besides, Elle was supposed to let everyone know when the funeral was, and even though he knew that was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about, it had to be done. That way, they could start figuring out how to get Damien to tell them where Voldemort's hideout was. Elle had to realize that just because she didn't find it that important right now, it was important for the rest of them to know.  
  
"Elle, you know I would much rather stay here," he said calmly. "But we really _do_ have to go. The funeral is this weekend! If we don't form a plan now, then we'll have no way of finding out where Voldemort is."  
  
Elle bit her lip and looked away. "Alright, alright, we'll go," she responded dully, looking just a little annoyed.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at her tone, suddenly very put off. "Well, you don't have to sound like you're doing everybody a big favor," he said, sounding nastier than he had meant to.  
  
Elle turned quickly around to face him, shocked. "When did I ever say that?" she asked, sounding hurt.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Never mind," he muttered, standing up and immediately regretting his outburst.  
  
"No, tell me," Elle demanded, getting up and blocking his way. "Because I'd like to know what I said that makes you think you can speak to me that way.”  
  
"Because, Elle, all you're thinking about right now is yourself!" he shouted, without quite meaning to. "Yes, I realize that you don't want to go, but you don't have to act selfish, like somebody's forcing you to be there!"  
  
Elle stared at him, wide-eyed. "I may not quite be in the mood to discuss, in detail, my aunt, uncle, and cousin's FUNERAL, but that doesn't mean I'm selfish. You're the one who's acting selfish...getting angry at me, just because I don't feel like going along with every little thing you say."  
  
"But Elle, this is important! Don't you  _want_  Voldemort defeated?" he yelled accusingly.  
  
Elle put her hands on her hips. "Of course I do!" she yelled back, sounding more than a little offended.  
  
"Well, you have a funny way of showing it," Harry said angrily, his face heating up.  
  
Elle swallowed hard and looked down at the floor, leaning back against the wall. "I just don't see why you have to shout at me," she said softly, sinking down to the ground and burying her face between her knees.  
  
Harry groaned for the second time that afternoon.  _Great_ , he thought.  _Now look what I've done._  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, after a moment of silence. "I didn't mean to lose my temper.”  
  
Elle nodded, but still didn't look up. Harry sat down next to her.  
  
"I didn't mean to yell at you like that," he continued in a gentler voice. "I guess combined with living in this crummy place, and having to suddenly worry about jobs and money...everything just kind of got to me. It's not you." He put his hand over hers. "You’re my wife now, Elle. I love you. Promise you'll forgive me?" he asked, trying to sound charming.  
  
Elle looked up and smiled a little. "I forgive you," she said. "You're my husband now, and I love you too. But can you promise me that we'll never fight again?"  
  
Harry grinned. "It's a deal," he agreed.  
  
"Good," Elle replied. "Because we sound like an old, married couple."

She got up, and began walking to the bedroom to get ready. 

“And stop being such an ass!”she called over her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Later on, at Grimmauld Place, Elle sat quietly on one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table, impatiently waiting for the meeting to start. She had to admit, she was a little more than shaken over the fight her and Harry had, but she was determined not to let it get to her. It didn't mean that they were going to fight all the time, or break up or anything...they were married now, and marriage was forever. Elle knew they were young, but she also knew one fight so soon after they wed was not enough to spark a visit to a marriage counselor.   
  
Elle was so lost in her own thoughts, that she didn't even notice Draco Malfoy taking the seat directly across from her.  
  
"Didn't I ever tell you that marriage was for suckers?" Draco said loudly, by way of greeting.  
  
Elle jumped. She wasn't expecting him to sit near her, nonetheless say anything. "Hey Draco," she said slowly, still staring off into space. "What's up?"  
  
He shrugged. "As usual, everything's going as smoothly as could be," he answered, his every word dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm sure you can say the same for yourself," he added.  
  
Elle sighed. "Well, things have been pretty hectic lately," she admitted. "You know, with the wedding, and moving into a new flat and all." She gave him a meaningful look. “Thanks for being our Secret Keeper by the way. Harry doesn’t like the idea, but I think we can trust you. I haven’t seen or heard from Damien since he was spotted at our wedding.”   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure the wedding was great," he replied, in the same cynical tone.  
  
Elle narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, you could've come," she said in a quiet voice. "I mean, I know you don't really like Harry, or Ron, or…anybody else for that matter, but you could have at least come for me." She swallowed. "Or at the very least, you could have come for the free food and champagne."  
  
Draco smirked. "Well, when you put it that way, how in the world could I have missed it?"  
  
"I don't know," said Elle, resting her elbows on the table and leaning in towards him with a piercing stare. "You tell me."  
  
Draco opened his mouth and was about to reply. He looked like he genuinely wanted to explain himself. 

But at that moment Dumbledore and the rest of the Order members walked into the room, and everybody scrambled around for seats. Harry slid into the seat next to Elle and slung his arm around her chair. Draco slumped back into his own seat, a small scowl etched onto his face. Elle quickly saw the reason for the scowl- Ginny had chosen a seat as far away from Draco as possible.   
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat and gave the signal for the meeting to begin. Elle leaned back against Harry's arm; she was quickly getting the feeling like this was going to be a very long night.  
  
Elle's mind started to wander off, as it always did when she was bored, and as almost always happened during the most inopportune moments. She wondered what was up with Draco; why did she get the feeling that he wasn't telling her something?  
  
She distinctly heard McGonagall calling somebody from the front of the room. But whomever she was calling certainly wouldn't answer, because she kept repeating herself.  
  
"Miss Levine? Miss Levine? Earth to Miss Levine!"  
  
Dumbledore gave McGonagall a sharp look, and she quickly stopped to correct herself. "Forgive me," she said, looking a little flustered. "Mrs. Potter?" she tried, a little louder, looking straight in Elle's direction but still gaining no response.  
  
Harry nudged her slightly, and Elle looked up in surprise.  
  
"Mrs. Potter!" McGonagall continued to call, now very annoyed.  
  
"Huh?" Elle asked, staring blankly back and forth between Harry and McGonagall. Then realization dawned on her. Mrs. Potter. Right. That was her name now. True, she hadn’t legally changed it yet, but it was only a matter of time.   
  
McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Are you with us, Elle?" she asked.  
  
Elle swallowed guiltily. "Yes Professor," she replied apologetically. "Sorry about that. Um, what did you want to tell me?"  
  
McGonagall shook her head and sighed. Some of the girls in the room giggled, but Elle didn't look at any of them. She was already embarrassed enough.  
  
"We've all been waiting to hear from you," McGonagall prompted.  
  
"Oh, right!" Elle said, finally snapping back to reality. "Yes, well, I talked to that friend of my aunt's a couple of days ago. She said she was planning on putting together a funeral for my relatives, and that it would be this weekend. I told her that afterwards she could invite the guests over at their old house, since it’s not going up for sale until next week. Plus, Harry and I were talking, and we think that we could have a better chance of confronting Damien back at the house than at the actual funeral. That way, it would be less suspicious...and besides, not all of us could have attended the funeral anyway."  
  
She looked anxiously around for everyone's reactions. She wasn't sure if this plan was going to work or not. After all, it did seem a little far-fetched. How in the world where they supposed to get Damien by himself, and then force him to tell them where Voldemort's hideout was? It all seemed so impossible. Yet, as Elle looked up at Dumbledore, she saw a satisfied grin on his face, and he nodded his head in approval.  
  
"That sounds perfect," he said briskly. "With that bit of news, I know exactly what we need to retrieve the information we want. But I'm going to need everyone's help and concentration, or else there is no way this will work. Now, before we go on, does anyone have any objections?"  
  
Neville hesitantly raised his hand from the opposite end of the table. Dumbledore nodded his head at him.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?" he asked politely.  
  
Neville swallowed. "Um, nobody's going to get killed or anything doing this, right?" he asked, with a slightly quivering voice.  
  
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Made-Eye Moody shared a look, and several people sitting down the row sniggered. Lupin gave him a kind smile.  
  
"As always, we will try our very best to make sure nobody gets hurt or killed," he said encouragingly, yet non-committedly.  
  
"At least, not today," muttered Mad-Eye, but loudly enough so that everyone in the room could hear. Tonks and Mrs. Weasley both threw him sharp looks.  
  
Draco snorted a little from where he sat. "Oh, well that's comforting," he remarked, rolling his eyes. Ginny glared at him, but he paid no attention.  
  
Elle sighed, observing Ginny and Draco. They were almost a more dysfunctional version of her and Harry.  
  
Dumbledore looked over his left shoulder at Snape. "Do you have the potion ready, Severus?" he asked.  
  
Snape stuck his hand into the back of his cloak and swiftly withdrew a small bottle filled with what could only be identified as Veritaserum, the serum that, once consumed, forced the drinker to speak the truth. Dumbledore took the Veritaserum, and faced the others with a pointed expression.  
  
"Now, listen carefully," he said. "Because this is what we're going to do."

* * *

After the meeting was adjourned, Harry continued to sit there, mulling frantically over all the plans that had been set. He couldn't believe that they were going to go through with this. But now definitely wasn't the time to start coming up with a new plan. All he had to do was just stay calm, follow Dumbledore's orders, and everything would be fine.  
  
"Hey!" Elle said loudly and unexpectedly from behind, causing his thoughts to immediately scatter. "You weren't planning on sitting here forever, were you?"  
  
Harry shook his head, and slowly stood up. "Sorry about that, I was just thinking about something." He turned to look at her, and saw her standing with Ron and Hermione. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
Elle nodded. "Yes. Oh, I invited Ron and Hermione over to our place for dinner. Is that okay?"  
  
Harry stared at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding? I know we’ve done a lot of cleaning, but our kitchen is still a disaster!" He looked towards his friends. "You guys aren't really planning on coming, are you?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "Why not?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Besides," she replied. "Elle's promised to give us a taste of her amazing cooking skills."  
  
Harry stared at Elle fearfully. "You cook?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
Elle smiled brightly and nodded. "That's right," she said. "Come on, it'll be fun. We just bought a whole bunch of food, there's plenty to eat."  
  
Harry sighed. "All right," he said, not buying that Elle was secretly a talented chef. "If you guys are willing to take the risk of eating Elle's food, then so be it."  
  
He began to move away from the table, towards the fireplaces. "Let's go."  
  
"Harry, wait!" Elle exclaimed quickly, grabbing him before he could take the dash of Floo Powder that lay near the fireplace in the kitchen.  
  
"What?" he asked, confused. "Aren't we using Floo Powder?"  
  
"No," Elle shuddered. She hated traveling by Floo Powder. "Dumbledore gave us a set of Portkeys for the flat," she explained, producing two black boxes and handing them over to Harry.  
  
Harry opened one of the boxes. "Cool," he said, pulling out two, old, rusty muggle keys.  
  
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "And there's one for each of you."  
  
"What's in this box, then?" Harry asked, shaking the other one.  
  
"Oh, those are the Portkeys for Order Headquarters and Hogwarts," Hermione told him, holding up her own box as well. "Dumbledore passed them out to everyone while you were busy daydreaming. He said it would be an easier and safer way for everyone to arrive at meetings. He's also going to start using my method."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows.  
  
"You know," she pressed on. "The Protean Charm we used during fifth year. He said since he couldn't just track us down in the corridors at Hogwarts anymore, using the Portkeys for letting us know the time and date for the meetings is what we're going to do from now on. We're supposed to carry them around with us, and whenever they glow and begin to feel hot, that's when the meeting has changed."  
  
Harry stared at her unblinkingly. "How did I miss all this?" he asked, dumbfounded.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Don’t ask me, you’re the one who insisted every minute of this meeting was important,” she stated, shaking her head.  
  
Harry felt his cheeks burn, but Elle had already opened the Portkeys to their home, and motioned for everyone to lay a finger on one of the moldy, old, enchanted muggle keys. A few moments later, after a whirlwind of spinning light and color, the four of them landed in the middle of Harry and Elle's messy living room, facing the newly painted bright green wall.  
  
"That was definitely way better than Floo Powder," Ron said, picking the key off the ground and handing it back to Elle.  
  
"Thanks," Elle said, putting the key back into the box.  
  
"Um, what's with the green wall?" Hermione asked, perplexed, staring at it in wonder.  
  
Elle grinned. "That's the product of Harry's amazing decorating taste," she teased. “I’ll fix it later.” She then proceeded to lead the way into the kitchen, stopping every now and then to pick up or throw away some spare bit of trash.  
  
"Okay, you three can sit down if you want," she said, going over to the cabinets and pulling out some pots and pans. "I'll start preparing dinner."  
  
"You may want to wash those pots and pans first," Harry advised.  
  
Hermione and Ron wrinkled their noses.  
  
"Don't worry," he said, trying his best to reassure them. "I'm sure it won't taste  _that_  bad."  
  
They sat down, and over the next couple of minutes they heard Elle making a complete ruckus, banging numerous cooking utensils and slamming the refrigerator door open and shut repeatedly, retrieving different ingredients each time. Harry hardly dared to ask what she was planning on making, though he wasn't very optimistic. He doubted whether she had ever cooked anything before in her life.  
  
Just as Harry was about to get up and ask if she needed any help, or would maybe consider ordering pizza instead, a strange smell filtered over to them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shared looks.  
  
"Does something smell like it's burning to you?" Ron asked dubiously.  
  
Harry shot up out of his seat and dashed over to where Elle was standing in front of the oven, amid a huge dark cloud of smoke. She was waving the air around her frantically.  
  
"Elle, what are you doing?" he shouted.  
  
"I didn't do anything, the oven caught on fire!" she cried, opening the oven door, in which a huge burst of flames shot out. "We have to put it out!" she exclaimed, flexing her hands. Feeble wisps of white foam shot out from her fingertips, but it wasn’t enough.   
  
Hermione and Ron ran over to them.  
  
"Oh honestly, let me do it," Hermione commanded, pulling out her wand. "Aguamenti!" she shouted.  
  
A large, steady stream of water shot out of the end of her wand, instantly soaking the hungry flames and putting them out with a sputtering hiss. Soon, all that was left of the fire was a disgusting smell of burnt metal, and a huge puddle of water on the ground surrounding their feet.  
  
Harry gave Hermione a relieved smile. "Good thinking," he said appreciatively. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem," she said.  
  
Elle sighed, kicking the stove angrily. "I'm really sorry," she told them sadly, pointing a finger at the puddle on the floor and evaporating it. "I just thought, you know, since we're living on our own now, the least I could do would be to try and cook a decent meal." She slumped against the cabinets. "But, as usual, I'm a failure.”  
  
Hermione laughed. "Elle, just because you're married doesn't mean you have to turn into some sort of housewife, cooking and cleaning all the time."  
  
"That's what you think," Harry said to Hermione. Elle threw him a look.  
  
"What, I'm only kidding!" he exclaimed, quickly defending himself. "I would never make you cook and clean." He laughed. "In fact, you're banned from ever entering this kitchen again."  
  
"Yeah, who knows, you might burn the entire house down next time!" Ron joked.  
  
"Oh, shut up!" Elle said good-naturedly, looking a little embarrassed. "Though that  _would_  be an improvement."  
  
Harry gazed at her. "What were you trying to make, anyway?" he asked curiously.  
  
Elle hesitated. "Um, pasta?" she said in a small voice.  
  
Hermione shook her head, trying desperately to hide her laughter. Everyone started laughing after that, despite the huge mess and burnt smell that remained in the kitchen. Ron looked around, his laughter slowly dying down.  
  
"Come on," he said. "Let's go eat at the Burrow. I'm sure my mum would love to have you two for dinner."  
  
"Fine with me." Harry said, leading the way out of the messy kitchen without a backwards glance.  
  
“Hermione, will you help me finish cleaning real quick?” Elle asked, grabbing Hermione’s arm before she could follow Harry out the door.

Hermione nodded. “Of course!” She turned to Ron. “You guys Floo on over, we’ll meet you at the Burrow.” 

She joined Elle at the sink to magically wash and dry the utensils, but a look at Elle’s tear-stained face made her stop.

“Are you okay?” Hermione frowned, eyeing her friend with concern. “It’s alright that you burned the food, Merlin knows I don’t know how to cook…although don’t you dare tell Ron that…” 

Elle shook her head. “It’s not that, it’s just…Harry and I had a fight about something stupid earlier, and he accused me of not caring about Voldemort’s defeat. It just…it brought back all the memories from when we fought at Hogwarts, when he didn’t think I was serious.” She angrily wiped the tears away from her eyes and glanced nervously at Hermione. “You know I take Voldemort seriously, right? And that I take getting married seriously?”

Hermione smiled reassuringly. “Of course,” she said, wrapping her arms around Elle in a tight hug. “You have a fun, carefree nature, and that’s what Harry loves about you. You two are both getting used to a new life- give yourself a break! If you didn’t fight at all, I would be worried.”

Elle smiled, relieved. “You’re so wise and honest, Hermione- that’s what I love about _you!_ ”

They both laughed, finished drying the dishes, and turned to leave the dimly-lit kitchen. Hermione linked her arm with Elle’s as they frog-marched their way to the fireplace.

“Hey,” said Elle suddenly. “If it doesn’t work out with Harry, we can always marry each other.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad actually,” Hermione grinned, before tossing the glittering Floo powder into the fire and watching the bright green flames emerge.

 

* * *

 

Even though it hadn't even been a week, Harry forgot just how much he had missed meals at the Burrow. Everybody gathered around the table, talking and laughing, while delicious, smoldering hot meats and pastries baked by Mrs. Weasley were set out neatly to feast upon. Harry secretly wished that one day he and Elle could have this; a warm, homey place where everybody loved to come and be together. Of course, wishing for that was pointless right now, what with their present living conditions. Plus, their property was under a Fidelius Charm. How long were they supposed to live in isolation?   
  
After everyone had finished eating, Elle, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed in the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasley with the cleaning. Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly at them as she handed over plates that needed to be washed.  
  
"So, how is everything at your new home?" she asked Harry, as Elle pointed a finger and magically cleaned the plate she was holding.  
  
Ron snorted before Harry or Elle could answer. "Well, Elle set fire to the kitchen today," he said amusedly.  
  
"I did not!" Elle replied hotly. "It was an accident."  
  
Harry laughed. "It's okay, nobody minds that you can't cook."  
  
Mrs. Weasley chuckled appreciatively. "It's quite alright, dear. You'll learn soon enough," she told Elle. "Do you think I knew how to cook before I got married?"  
  
Elle laughed. "Well, the food tonight was delicious," she said admiringly.  
  
"Speaking of new homes," Hermione said quietly to Harry and Elle, as Mrs. Weasley got up to carry the clean plates over to the cabinets. "Ron and I were thinking of moving into a small flat of our own soon."  
  
"Really?" Harry asked, a little surprised that they were planning on doing this so soon. "Does your mum know about this?" he asked Ron.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Not yet," he answered. "We're going to wait until after this weekend to tell her." He sighed. "You know how protective and emotional my mum is, I think she'd have a meltdown if we told her right away. But Ginny said we should get a move on and that, well…there’s only so long we can pretend that Hermione sleeps on the couch.”   
  
Harry and Elle nodded understandingly. Elle was about to say something, however at that moment, Mrs. Weasley came back over to them, and they had to cut their conversation short.  
  
Later that night, once Harry and Elle were back home, they walked right past the kitchen and into the bedroom...neither of them wanted to think about the horrendous clutter and disarray waiting for them to tidy up the next morning. It was already very late; they had stayed at the Burrow for a long time, much longer than they had intended-if only to prolong the moment when they had to return to their flat, and deal with all the problems and annoyances that a new marriage faced.  
  
Harry yawned as he flopped onto the bed, kicking off his shoes.  
  
"Well, I think it's a good idea," Elle said, storming into the room behind him and throwing off her clothes.  
  
"What's a good idea?" he asked, catching her clothes with a wink and throwing them in the laundry basket.   
  
"Ron and Hermione moving in together," she said, as if she were continuing a long-awaited conversation. She threw on a tank top and a pair of cherry red pajama pants, and then proceeded to brush her hair.  
  
Harry shrugged. "I guess," he said, yawning once more. "It's going to be an interesting weekend, that's for sure."  
  
Elle frowned, putting down the brush and climbing into bed next to Harry. "I don't know about you, but I'm kind of worried about what's going to happen," she admitted, anxiously twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "You know, at the funeral."  
  
"It'll go fine," Harry assured her. "As long as we stick to the plan, and do what Dumbledore says, then everything should go alright."  
  
Elle sighed. "I don't see why we always have to do everything Dumbledore says," she complained.  
  
Harry stared at her. "Nobody's making us follow his orders," he said. "But he knows what he's talking about. Besides, he's usually right about these matters anyway.”  
  
Elle chewed thoughtfully on her lip. "I know that," she said. "But everything just seems so risky."  
  
"Yeah, well, what were you expecting?" he asked. "He did ask if anyone had any objections."  
  
"I'm not objecting to it," she told him hastily. "I just don't think he realizes how dangerous this is.”  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Dumbledore would never make us do anything that would deliberately put us in danger." He quickly remembered the sword fighting lessons. "At least, nothing that we hadn't wholeheartedly agreed to do in the first place," he added quickly. "We have to trust him, Elle. He knows what he's doing."  
  
She sighed again, and leaned against the pillows. "All right," she replied. "If you trust him, then I trust him."  
  
Harry got the feeling that Elle still wasn't completely confident.  
  
“Elle, there’s something else I want to tell you…aside from all this funeral business.”  
  
Elle frowned, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “What?” she asked, a little nervously.  
  
Harry smiled and took her hand. “I know you’ve been thinking about our fight,” he said calmly. “I have too. But I want you to know, I love you very much, and I’m so happy you’re my wife.”  
  
Elle smiled, her eyes full of relief. “I love you too,” she whispered.   
  
Harry gave her a kiss on the forehead, and suddenly feeling immensely better, rolled over and turned off the lights on his side. "I'm going to bed."  
  
"Fine," she answered, turning off the lights on her side as well, with a single glance. "See you in the morning," she said, situating the pillows before finally falling back against them. Her voice sounded warmer than it had been all evening.   
  
"Sweet dreams," Harry echoed back into the darkness. He could feel Elle smiling as she buried her face in the new, fluffy white pillows.   
  
He rolled over onto his side, taking off his glasses and placing them carefully on the floor, since they had yet to buy a bedside cabinet. He didn't want to think about the upcoming funeral any longer, but as the night grew on, he found he couldn't distract himself.  
  
He let out a deep breath and turned on his other side. He knew Elle’s views of the funeral mission were due to personal misgivings, but still…he hoped Dumbledore knew what he was doing.   
  



	35. Revelations

The weekend loomed before them like a dark, intimidating void at the end of a very lengthy tunnel. But when Friday finally came, Harry only felt himself growing tenser. Tomorrow would be the day of the funeral. Even though everybody knew what he or she had to do (they had gone over the plan a million times), there was still a small thread of doubt hanging over him. Too much was riding on this mission, and even if the tiniest thing went wrong, they would be in very big trouble.  
  
Harry sighed, and leaned back against the couch. Him and Elle were sitting next to each other in the living room, watching a Quidditch game on their miniature television. Over the past few days they had managed to make their new flat appear almost livable, but it was still far from paradise, and needed a lot more fixing up.

Harry took a quick glance over at Elle. Sitting there with her feet curled up into a ball and a steaming mug of tea in her hands, her eyes were focused on the game, but he could tell that her mind was wandering.  
  
Harry watched as Ireland's keeper blocked an excellent pass from one of Peru's chasers, and waited for Elle to stand up and cheer like she usually did. Instead, she just continued to sit there, her spoon stirring in circles in its cup all by itself.   
  
"Hey, are you okay?" Harry asked her, startling her half to death. He put a hand over the mug, and the spoon stopped its frantic spinning.   
  
"Yeah, fine," she murmured, sitting up straight, putting her mug aside, and fixing her attention on the players flying around on their broomsticks. "What's the score?"  
  
"Ireland's ahead by fifty," Harry replied. He tilted his head, and gave her an odd look. "Listen, are you sure you're alright? You seem a little distracted."  
  
Elle sighed, and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure," she said. She tore her eyes away from the screen and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Harry, but I don't think I can watch this anymore."  
  
Harry shrugged. "You’re right, Ireland’s team is pretty dismal this season…”  
  
"No, I mean, I can’t concentrate on the game right now," Elle interjected quickly. “For some reason, the dead bodies of my aunt and uncle keep swirling in my mind…”   
  
Harry flicked off the set with his wand. Elle remained silent, still intently biting her nails. This was becoming a bad habit of hers. Harry suspected it was Elle’s way of keeping her hands occupied, so that she wouldn’t accidentally do wandless magic out of anxiety.   
  
He reached over, and gently grabbed her hand, pulling it out of her mouth.  
  
"If you're worried about tomorrow, don't be," Harry assured her, as if he could read her thoughts. "It's going to be fine.” He grinned. "Besides, you know I would never let anything happen to you."  
  
Elle allowed herself a laugh, and piled her hair on top of her head with her hands. "You know that ‘Chosen One,’ hero talk doesn’t work on me,” she teased.  
  
"But I’m the Boy Who Lived!" Harry answered back with a cheesy, triumphant grin.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Not for long, if you keep acting stupid,” she laughed.    
  
Harry shook his head. Even though Elle was laughing now, she still looked like something was bothering her. Harry suspected that it was the anticipation of the funeral. Which was fine, because he had the perfect way of cheering her up.   
  
Stretching his arms up over his head, he proceeded to pack on the charm.  
  
"I'm sorry if I've been rough on you these last couple of days," Harry said, taking her hand and slowly pulling her towards his end of the couch.  
  
Elle met his gaze and shrugged. “It's not like I haven't been hard on you too." She scrunched up her face. "Everything just seem so serious and tense lately."  
  
Harry's eyes twinkled. "I know what we could do to make ourselves feel better," he said impishly, running a hand through her hair.  
  
Elle bit her lip, but made no effort to push him away. "Don't you think we should get some rest for tomorrow?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Not really my priority right now," Harry responded, leaning in to kiss her.   
  
Elle seemed to momentarily give in, but pulled back the second his lips reached hers. "But what if something goes wrong with the mission?" she asked worriedly, a knot forming above her eyebrows.  
  
"It’s a risk we have to take, but worrying and resting won’t help," Harry said. He grinned. "Now, are you going to shut up and let me kiss you, or what?"  
  
Elle sighed, and rolled her eyes again. "Fine," she replied.   
  
He kissed her again, and this time she didn't pull away.  
  
They kissed heavily on the couch for a few minutes, getting more intense with each second that passed. Elle parted from him for a quick moment just to quickly throw off her top, before tucking her hair behind her ears and falling on top of him to kiss him once more.  
  
"Hold on," Harry said, sitting up.  
  
Elle slid off him. "What's wrong?" she asked.  
  
Harry pulled off his shirt, let it fall onto the floor next to him, and then gently held onto Elle's back as he pushed her down against the sofa. Elle was obviously impressed, because she pulled Harry down closer, and didn’t let go of him for a second. Harry sensed the urgency in her motions, and softly stroked her thighs.  
  
"Bedroom?" he whispered into her ear.  
  
She nodded, causing her damp hair to fall into her eyes. "Definitely," she whispered back.  
  
They stumbled awkwardly through the flat to get to their bedroom, losing articles of clothing along the way. Hedwig squawked disapprovingly as she eyed them with her beady stare, and then flew away to take refuge in the kitchen.  
  
Once they finally reached their bed, they collapsed upon it.  
  
"I love being married," Elle said quietly to Harry, resting her head against the pillows and pulling his bare body on top of her.  
  
In this case, Harry most definitely had to agree.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Elle lay silently in the dark. Their previous activities had left her wide-awake, and with the impending worry about tomorrow, she found it impossible to go back to sleep. The house felt so quiet and still that it made Elle shiver. Pulling the covers even tighter around her, she wiggled deeper into the mattress. She didn't know about Harry, but right now she almost missed sleeping in the dormitories at Hogwarts. At least up in the girls' rooms, there was always talking and giggling, and she didn't have to worry whether the sheets were clean, or if there was anything living underneath the floorboards.  
  
She turned over onto her side, reaching her hands up over her head to stretch. A patch of moonlight shining through the newly repaired window illuminated her wedding ring, and Elle began to play with it, turning it around and around on her finger, as she always did when she was thinking about something important. It wasn't like she regretted her choices, but she had to admit, she hadn't imagined marriage would be quite like this. She had always pictured her and Harry living in a cute little cottage, with a perfect garden out front, and not a care in the world.   
  
She flipped onto her other side, and her eyes fell on Harry. His eyes were closed, and the steady rise and fall of his chest let her know that he was in the middle of a deep sleep. She smiled, gazing at him in the dim amount of light.  
  
 _I don't deserve him_ , she thought. She had to stop thinking so much about what she had hoped would happen. She had to be grateful for what she had.  
  
As she continued to stare fondly at Harry, her eyes lingered on his troublesome scar. She frowned, her cheek pressed tightly against the pillow. She wished with all her might that in some way she could make that horrid scar disappear, and with it, all the responsibility of fulfilling that frightful prophecy. She closed her eyes and shivered again. She didn't want Harry knowing that she was still terrified about the prophecy, and that the fear of him dying passed over her almost every day.  
  
She swallowed nervously and got up from the bed, being careful not to wake Harry. All this worrying was making her restless. With a robe wrapped around her, she walked into the bathroom, and turned on the light with a flick of her finger. Staring at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but wince. Her skin looked pale and sallow, and her hair hung limp and greasy-looking against her back. She squinted at her reflection, and studied her forehead closely. He eyes widened in horror. Was that a...a...zit?  
  
Without a second glance, she stormed out of the bathroom and dove into bed. Stress did not agree with her, that was for sure, but right now she needed her rest. If not, she would be a complete zombie in the morning.   
  
She closed her eyes again and tried her best to sleep, consoling herself with the thought that tomorrow would soon be over, and then she would ask Hermione for the best anti-acne spell there was.

 

* * *

 

Harry opened his eyes the next morning and looked over to the spot on the bed next to him, only to find the space empty. He yawned, before sitting up and putting on his glasses. Rumpling his hair, he reached over to grab his watch, and let out a soft groan. It was way too early...why would she be up now?  
  
"Elle?" he called out, yawning for the second time.  
  
She came out of the bathroom, and Harry saw with some surprise that she was already dressed and ready to go. She gave him a shaky smile.  
  
"Hey," she said, fastening a small hair clip to her head. "Did you just get up?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied, giving her a weird look. Her face was stark white, and she had huge, dark circles under her eyes. "Were you up all last night?" he asked her.  
  
She grimaced. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep." She narrowed her eyes as Harry continued to stare at her. "Are you looking at my zit?" she asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "What zit?" he asked, not having a clue as to what she was talking about.  
  
"It's right here!" she exclaimed, pointing dramatically to somewhere on her forehead.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't feel like dealing with Elle's delusions this early in the morning. "Better a zit than a scar," he replied. "Look, I think we should get going soon."  
  
Elle stopped pointing and stared at him. "You're, like, not even going to get dressed first?"  
  
Harry sighed. "No Elle, I'm going to go in my pants," he said, with a perfectly straight face.  
  
Elle took off one of her shoes and threw it at him. It narrowly missed his head. "You are such a smartass!" She turned towards the mirror to fix her hair.  
  
"You know, I really don't think anybody there is going to care how your hair looks," Harry remarked, getting out of bed and starting to get dressed.  
  
"How do you know?" Elle retorted, taking out the clip and just tying it up in a ponytail. "Oh, by the way, when are Ron and Hermione getting here?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Any minute, I guess."  
  
The four of them were supposed to go down to the funeral together, and while him and Elle watched the ceremony, Ron and Hermione would act as stakeouts, making sure that Damien didn't sneak off or try anything funny. The rest of the Order would already be waiting for them back at Elle's aunt and uncle's house for the reception. Some of them would be dressed undercover as muggles, blending in with the crowd, while the others would remain out of sight until it was time for them to corner Damien.  
  
Harry finished getting dressed, feeling uncomfortable in a black suit. Elle looked over at him and sighed, fingering her own short, simple black dress.  
  
"Don't worry," he told her, before she could say anything. "You look fine."  
  
Her mind seemed to be wandering again. Harry was about to say something, when he suddenly heard the distinct crackling of their dull fireplace, and soon the sound of voices floated over to them from the living room.  
  
"I think Ron and Hermione are here," he said, leading the way out of the bedroom. Elle followed him, feeling as if she were about to collapse from nerves.  
  
"Hi," Hermione said, looking classy and sophisticated in a black top and skirt. "Are you two ready to go?"  
  
Elle took a deep breath. "Of course we're ready," she said, though her voice was wobbling.  
  
Hermione sensed the nervousness in her voice. "Don't worry, it'll be over soon," she soothed.  
  
Elle didn't respond. She felt like she was about to have another anxiety attack. Instead, she looked towards the ground.  
  
"Cute shoes," she told Hermione, monetarily distracted by her black, shiny heels.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Harry gave him a look.  
  
"Something wrong?" he asked.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Ron told his mum and dad about us moving in together a bit earlier than expected," she answered for him. "They accepted it, though they weren't too happy at first. You know, they gave us a whole lecture on how moving in together is a really big deal, and that it's stupid to made a decision like this because eighteen is way too young, and it would never work out, and...oh..."  
  
She faltered, catching the looks on Harry and Elle's faces. "Of course, it's obviously different for you two, she's only being protective because Ron's her youngest son, and she didn't mean what she said…”  
  
"It's okay," Elle interrupted, her cheeks getting hot.  
  
"She didn't mean it like that," Ron insisted, throwing Hermione a look.  
  
"We know," Harry assured him. "It's fine, really."  
  
“Yeah, we didn’t assume she meant it in a bad way,” Elle added.  
  
There was an awkward silence after that, with the four of them just standing there. Elle didn't know what to make of Hermione's words. Was that what Mrs. Weasley secretly thought of them getting married? That they were being stupid, and that it wasn't going to work out, or even last very long? Was she trying to save her son from the same, apparently doomed, fate as his best friend?  
  
Not surprisingly, the anxiety in Elle's stomach worsened.   
  
"Come on," Harry said, breaking the silence and tugging on Elle's arm. "Let's head out."

 

* * *

 

Later, at the cemetery, Elle shook slightly as she stood outside next to Harry, watching the coffins containing her aunt, uncle, and cousin get lowered deeper and deeper into the ground. She swallowed hard, trying her best not to cry.

She didn't even know why she was feeling so emotional. She had absolutely detested her relatives with all her heart. Yet standing here, watching them be buried after all those years of them wanting nothing to do with her, she felt as if she didn't quite hate them as much as she thought. She wondered, if she had known what was to become of them, would she have felt any better about having to live there?  
  
She looked over at Harry, who instead of seriously watching the ceremony, was watching her with a concerned expression. He squeezed her hand, and Elle smiled at him gratefully.  
  
"I'm okay," she insisted, before he could say anything. She swallowed and put on a brave face.  
  
Harry nodded. "I know," he said. He looked around at the sea of people clothed in black, who were now starting to tear their eyes away from the coffins and mingle around with the other guests. Some of them were dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs, while others were heading to their cars to make their way back to the reception.   
  
Elle and Harry stood still, waiting for the signal from Ron and Hermione, who were standing off to the side, away from all the attendees.  
  
"Do you know any of these people?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"Some of them," Elle replied, gazing around at the crowd. "See those people over there?" she asked, pointing to a rather large couple. "That's the woman my uncle had an affair with, and her unsuspecting husband. They came over for a visit once, and said I was a nasty little brat who should be shipped off to the nearest orphanage."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at a group of mean-looking girls who were surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke. "And those girls over there were friends of Cameron’s. They threatened to beat me up if I even so much as glanced in their direction."  
  
Harry looked down and saw that Elle was steadily flexing her fingers, as if she were just itching to point at them and throw them a nice Unforgivable curse.  
  
She turned around. "And those people over there..." she said, continuing her rant. "Are...wait a second." She suddenly stopped, and her eyes widened. "Harry, what are _your_ aunt and uncle doing here?"  
  
Harry whipped around so fast that his neck cracked in at least three different places. "Oh, damn," he whispered.  
  
There they were, standing only feet away from them; Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, all huddled together in a little clump.  
  
"Over here," he hissed to Elle, grabbing her arm and yanking her over to a spot behind some trees, before the Dursley's could spot them. Once they were hidden, Elle wriggled herself out of Harry's grip.  
  
"Do you think they were invited?" she asked, peering at them through the leaves.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Not sure, but it makes sense why they're here. I mean, your relatives and my relatives were neighbors. And you don't know how nosy my Aunt Petunia is...she'd invite herself to a funeral if it meant learning some good gossip."  
  
Just then, Elle felt a sharp tap on her shoulder. She turned around expecting to see Ron and Hermione, but instead was faced with a tall, stern woman with white-blonde hair. She had a tan face that had obviously been the product of artificial sunlight, extremely broad shoulders that made her look like a football player, and the appearance of someone with a fierce personality.   
  
But a small smile came over her face as she gazed at Elle, which surprised her for two reasons; one, she didn't think people with Botox could smile, and two, she had been expecting a scowl.  
  
"Oh my, Danielle Levine. It’s been years," the lady said, continuing to smile lightly. "You've grown so much. When I first laid eyes on you, I could've sworn I was looking at your mother."  
  
Elle smiled back, although she now knew the reason for the woman's warmth- she was looking for her share of Elle's small inheritance.  
  
"Hello Mrs. Adair. It's good to see you too," Elle replied, clearing her throat. "And my name is Danielle Potter now." She gestured toward Harry. "This is my husband, Harry Potter. Harry, this is Misty Adair, that friend of my aunt's I was telling you about."  
  
Harry smiled politely. "How do you do?" he asked. He went to hold out his hand, but Elle inconspicuously slapped it back down again.  
  
Mrs. Adair looked mildly shocked. "Well, I had no idea you were married!" she said, her eyebrows shooting up to her forehead. "How old are you now, anyway?"  
  
"Um, I'll be eighteen tomorrow," Elle replied, going a little red in the face. "We've only been married a week."  
  
Harry's stomach did a little flip. He had completely forgotten that Elle's birthday was on Sunday.  _Way to go, Harry._  
  
Mrs. Adair frowned a little, her dreams of taking part in her deceased friend's money already floating away. "Well, congratulations," she said flatly, the smile she had been wearing earlier quickly vanishing.  
  
Elle shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking a bit awkward. "Thanks so much for putting all of this together," she said after a while, her cheeks still tinged with pink. "I know that my aunt and uncle would have really appreciated it."  
  
Mrs. Adair gave a tight smile. "I'm sure they would have," she agreed. "Do you two need a ride back to the house?" she asked, in a last-minute attempt to score some brownie points.  
  
"No thank you, we'll just walk," Elle replied. The cemetery was only a few blocks from Privet Drive, and besides, she didn't want to risk being seen by the Dursley’s or Damien.  
  
Mrs. Adair turned to leave, and Harry and Elle left their spot behind the trees to go catch up with Ron and Hermione.  
  
"So, what exactly is the deal with that lady anyway?" Harry asked as they walked.  
  
Elle groaned. "She's a gold-digger if I ever saw one. Her, my mom, and my Aunt Jade grew up together in California. They were all friends, but when my mother found out she was a witch, they kind of…ditched her. Whether it was because of jealousy or embarrassment, I have no idea. Anyway, my aunt wanted nothing to do with my mom after that, and when my grandparents died, Aunt Jade went abroad immediately after graduating. Misty went with her, and the two stayed best friends. Then of course, my aunt met my uncle, and soon they got married, moved in together, and had my cousin. Mrs. Adair married as well, and bought a house near theirs, though she's been divorced and remarried at least five times since then."  
  
She took a quick breath before continuing. Harry could tell she was getting into the story.   
  
"Anyway, when my parents died and I came to live with them, Mrs. Adair heard about it right away. I was always sent to her house whenever my aunt and uncle didn't feel like dealing with me, and she's always been nicer to me than they were, although I think that's because my aunt never told her I was a witch." Elle sighed. "She probably thinks I just get shipped off to boarding school, or something."  
  
"Wow," Harry said when she was finished. "That's quite a tale."  
  
Elle gave a wry smile. “You know me babe, I’m always willing to share my past.”   
  
Ron and Hermione spotted them from a few feet away, and came over, looking around to make sure nobody was spying on them.  
  
"Finally," Ron said, once they were sure they were out of earshot. "What took you guys so long?"  
  
"We got a little held up," Harry explained. "Have you been keeping an eye on Damien?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "He's heading back to the house on foot now. My guess is that he'll put in a quick appearance before leaving, so he doesn't look suspicious. That means we'll have to act fast."  
  
Elle nodded, peering over the crowd and spotting Damien's faraway, though familiar black cloak. "Are we going to follow him?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered. "Though we'll have to keep a safe distance." She glanced at Harry. "Did you bring the invisibility cloak?"  
  
Harry nodded, and pulled from his pocket the silky, iridescent material he had stuffed in there right before they left that morning. He handed it to Hermione.  
  
"Me and Ron will go under this, but we'll be right next to you two the whole time. The others are already back at the house, waiting for us," Hermione explained.  
  
"Okay," Harry said, craning his neck over the dispersing crowd. "I think we should hurry up, he's far enough ahead for us to start following."  
  
After making sure that no one was looking, Hermione took the cloak and covered herself and Ron with it the best she could, though Ron had to hunch to become completely unseen.  
  
"Remember," Hermione hissed, as they began walking. "We cannot let him out of our sight!"

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, the four of them made it to the house in one piece. Even though there was an occasional "ouch!" coming from the invisible space next to them, Ron and Hermione managed to keep hidden the whole way there. After ducking behind the back wall of the house, Ron threw off the cloak.  
  
"We are definitely getting way too big for that thing," Ron remarked, handing the cloak back to Harry.  
  
"Now what?" Harry asked Hermione, stuffing the cloak hurriedly out of sight.  
  
Hermione frowned in concentration.  
  
"Follow me," she said, leading the way out from behind the shelter of the wall.  
  
Trailing dutifully behind her, they made their way into the house, and were instantly greeted by the aroma of baked goods some of the guests had brought out of sheer politeness. Overly dressed women stood together in little clumps chatting away, free of any tears they had pretended to shed at the ceremony, while their clueless husbands sat together on the couch...all of them looking as though they'd rather be anywhere else. The cigarette-smoking girls whom Elle had pointed out earlier were gossiping with each other in the living room, carelessly flicking ashes onto the spotless carpet.  
  
The Order members were quickly spotted, though it was obvious they were trying their best not to draw attention to themselves; Tonks and Kingsley were standing near the doorway, holding drinks and pretending to be in deep conversation; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were huddled near the sofas, nonchalantly observing those around them, and Hestia Jones, Emmeline Vance, and Dedalus Diggle were all together in one big group, whispering to each other and shooting looks in Harry's direction. All of them were wearing traditional, black muggle attire, and would have blended in perfectly if Mr. Weasley wouldn't continue giving an excited squeak every time somebody's cell phone rang.   
  
Elle tapped Harry on the shoulder. Well, more like punched him. Small as she was, she never did anything lightly.  
  
"Look," she whispered, pointing towards a small space near the entrance hallway.  
  
Harry swallowed hard. As luck would have it, the Dursley’s were standing right in plain sight (his uncle and Dudley as rotund as ever), talking to Damien.  
  
Harry groaned. Why, out of all the people in the entire house, did nosy Aunt Petunia have to pick Damien as her gossip victim? And of course, she had to drag Uncle Vernon and Dudley with her. Harry looked away.  
  
"Maybe we should wait until they're done talking," Harry said slowly, trying his best not to be overheard.  
  
"Are you crazy? If we don't catch him now, he's going to leave! Why do you think he's standing by the door?" Elle asked him incredulously.  
  
"He's not going to leave, let's just stand over here and wait a few minutes," Harry said quickly, trying to drag Elle away before any of the Dursley’s could turn around.  
  
Elle sighed exasperatedly. "Harry, I'm sick of waiting. I just want to get this over with, don't you?"  
  
When Harry didn't budge, she put her hands on her hips, preparing for an argument. But when she saw the look on his face, her expression softened.  
  
"Look, I know you don't want to talk to them, and...I really can't say I blame you," Elle sighed. "How about I just go over and talk to them myself, and you can wait here until I drag Damien away?"  
  
Harry stared at her gratefully. "Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded.  
  
"We'll go and warn the others," Ron said, as he and Hermione rushed upstairs.  
  
Elle began to move towards the Dursley’s, but stopped as an idea struck her, and she began tousling her hair. Harry stared at his wife in disbelief.  
  
"Have you gone mad?" he questioned seriously, as he watched her finish with her hair and flick off one of the straps on her dress, letting it hang loosely around her shoulder.  
  
"Do I look trampy enough?" she asked Harry calmly, turning around.  
  
Harry laughed. "What?"  
  
Elle grinned mischievously. "I really want to freak out your aunt and uncle. Now come on, tell me I look like a slut."  
  
She looked more like a little girl playing dress up, but Harry decided to tell her what she wanted to hear. "Absolutely," he answered, trying to sound encouraging.  
  
"Great, thanks," she murmured distractedly, glancing quickly towards the front hallway to make sure the Dursley’s hadn't moved. They were still there, but Damien was starting for the door. Elle swallowed- she better act fast.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked her, as she began to walk away.  
  
"Just going to have a little fun," she replied carelessly. She winked at Harry. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."  
  
Harry frowned. He seriously doubted this.  
  
"Hi! How are you?" Elle asked loudly, squeezing herself right in the middle of their little group, as Harry looked on.  
  
The Dursley’s and Damien visibly stiffened.  
  
"Are you enjoying yourselves?" Elle continued, trying to sound cheery, but then hesitated when she saw how taken aback they looked. "Right, probably not, seeing as how this is a funeral. Sorry.”  
  
She glanced up, and saw with some surprise that Dudley was staring at her, with a spark of recognition in his eyes. Elle quickly put a finger to her lips, silently pleading with him not to say anything, and Dudley, dense as he was, seemed to get the hint.  
  
Uncle Vernon, oblivious to his son, stared down his big, beefy neck at her. "And who might you be, exactly?"  
  
Elle flashed them a dazzling smile. She had been waiting for this.  
  
"Danielle Potter, it’s a pleasure to meet you," she announced, holding out her hand politely. "I was the niece of the neighbors you spied on all year long."   
  
Harry clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing at the astonished looks on his Aunt and Uncle's faces, and crouched down behind some tall, potted plant. He hadn't thought he'd be able to hear what they were saying, but Elle was talking so loud that the whole room practically stopped and turned to stare at her. But then again, Elle always seemed to find a way to set all the attention on her, whether she did it on purpose or not.  
  
Aunt Petunia glared, both her and her husband ignoring Elle's outstretched hand. "Potter, did you say?" she spat out, staring down at her, her horsey teeth covered by her pursed lips.  
  
Elle nodded, dropping her hand to her side. "That's right," she chirped, a little too brightly.  
  
Aunt Petunia pursed her lips. "We are sorry for your loss," she said stiffly, though Harry knew she was burning to ask questions.   
  
Vernon narrowed his eyes, and stroked his big, bushy mustache. "Wouldn't happen to know a Harry Potter, would you?" he growled, looking sharply around the room as if expecting his nephew to pop up at any moment.  
  
Harry came out a little from behind the plant. He couldn't wait to hear this.  
  
"Oh, him," Elle said, as if she had just remembered who he was. "I'm his wife."  
  
If there was a better word to use for shocked, then that would be the word to describe Vernon and Petunia Dursley. They both faced Elle with scandalized expressions, and Harry couldn't help but think that his Aunt had just uncovered the juiciest bit of gossip yet.  
  
Dudley smirked a little, as if amused by his parent's reactions. Damien, who had remained silent so far, shifted and gave an awkward bow, which was far from his usual smoothness.  
  
"I must go," he muttered, turning once again for the door.  
  
Elle's eyes widened. "No, you can't!" she said quickly, scooting in front of the doorway and blocking it with her arms. "I mean, uh, not yet." She blew away a stray hair that was covering her face. "I have to show you something."  
  
Damien eyed her with an icy stare. "I have paid my respects to my late fiancée and her parents," he said coldly, with no true sign of repentance. "This is very...hard on me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must leave."  
  
"No please, it'll only take a second!" she pressed, standing her ground. She stared into Damien's steely gaze, refusing to be intimidated.  
  
In the meantime, all three Dursley’s were now staring back and forth between Damien and Elle, trying desperately to figure out in their puny little brains what was going on.  
  
Harry knew what Elle was trying to do. He sighed. To hell with the Dursley’s. There were more important things to worry about.  
  
"There you are," he said loudly, walking right through the Dursley’s and up to Elle. "I've been looking for you everywhere."  
  
Elle stared at him with her eyes practically popping out of their sockets. "Oh...hi," she said slowly, quickly regaining her composure. "I thought you were going to wait for me over there...honey."  
  
Harry had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing. He could feel the Dursley’s burning holes into the back of his neck. "Changed my mind," he responded, shrugging. "You know that I can't bear to be apart from you for too long...sweetums."  
  
Elle's face turned red, and Harry could tell she was on the verge of giggles.  
  
"Of course I knew that. I was just busy getting acquainted with your, uh, lovely relatives," Elle replied, as seriously as she dared.  
  
"Huh?" Harry asked, turning around and staring his Aunt and Uncle in the face. "Oh, right," he said, as if he had just noticed them. It wasn't a very pleasant sight. "Never knew you had ever met Elle’s family."   
  
"Never told us you were planning on getting married," Uncle Vernon muttered bitterly.  
  
"Really?" Harry asked vaguely. "Hmm. Must’ve slipped my mind. Why, upset at missing the free food at that ceremony as well?"  
  
He turned to face Elle again, not giving his Aunt and Uncle a chance to answer. "I just wanted to let you know that all the valuables are ready upstairs."  
  
Aunt Petunia's ears perked up, and she leaned in closer, despite her utter dislike for the situation. "Valuables, did you say?" she asked sharply.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, as Elle continued to stare at him in confusion. "You know," he hissed in her direction, fixing her with a hard gaze. "The cash and jewels that were left behind by your cousin...the ones worth a fortune?"  
  
"Oh..." Elle said, catching on to Harry's plan. "That's right!"  
  
She turned to Damien. "That's what I was planning on showing you," she said to him. "Cameron left them to me, but I know she would have wanted you to have them. After all, she loved you so much," she added, trying not to gag. "Like Harry said, it's worth a fortune. And this will only take a second."  
  
Harry turned slowly to face Damien, and when he did, he breathed in sharply. Damien's bitter, malicious black eyes seemed to pierce right through Harry's flesh, and as he gazed up at them, he felt his scar prickling uncomfortably. But he didn't look away.  
  
Damien still didn't say anything, but Elle seemed to take his silence as consent.  
  
"Come on, I'll lead the way upstairs," she said hurriedly, before Damien could make another attempt to leave. "Just the three of us" she continued, in case the Dursley’s were thinking of following them.  
  
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rolled their eyes and walked away, no doubt heading for the kitchen. Now, only Elle, Harry, Damien, and Dudley remained in the front hallway.  
  
Elle turned around and shoved Harry's shoulder as soon as they left. "Sweetums? What is wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothing at all...honey," he replied, knowing it would aggravate her.  
  
Dudley was looking back and forth between them. "So, you're really married?" he asked Harry.  
  
Harry sighed, and nodded. "Yes," he replied, staring at Elle and running a finger over his wedding ring. "I'm really married. Don't ever do it, though- I warn you, it's hell."  
  
Elle glared at him. "Keep talking like that and it will be hell," she advised dangerously. She turned to Dudley. “I guess that means we’re related now.”  
  
Dudley nodded and grinned. “Maybe one day we can get to know each other better, away from these lunatics,” he said, gesturing to his mum and dad. He sounded kinder than Harry had ever heard him.  

Elle grinned. “That sounds great,” she said sincerely.   
  
Damien cleared his throat. "Do you think perhaps we could make this quick? I really do need to be leaving."  
  
Harry could see that Damien was clenching his wrist tightly. Guessing that Damien was vain enough to care about collecting jewels and riches had been a long shot, but apparently, the man cared about it enough to put off leaving.  
  
Elle and Harry quickly exchanged looks.  
  
"I'm sorry," Elle said quietly, turning towards the stairs. "Right this way."  
  
Harry waited till Damien began to follow Elle, planning to stay behind him in case he changed his mind and bolted for the door the second their backs were turned. He nodded towards Dudley as he took off. "Later, Dud."  
  
The pressure seemed to mount with every step. Finally, they reached the top of the staircase, and paused momentarily on the landing. Elle nodded slowly at Harry, and Harry knocked twice on the closed door to Elle's old room, giving the signal that they had successfully arrived.  
  
Damien looked at the door expectantly, but his anticipation quickly vanished as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all burst out of the room at once, their wands held out in front of them.  
  
"Stupefy!" they yelled in unison, pointing their wands straight at Damien's chest.  
  
Three different beams of light shot out from the wand tips, and before Harry knew it, Damien had collapsed onto the ground, where he remained motionless.  
  
"Good job," Harry told them, as he stared down at the Death Eater. He had a slight urge to kick him, but resisted the temptation.  
  
Elle was also staring at him. "Well, he certainly doesn't look so suave now," she muttered in disgust.  
  
"Come on," Ginny said. "We need to bring him into the room."  
  
"I'll do it," Ron said, pointing his wand at Damien once again. "Mobilicorpus."  
  
Damien's unconscious body rose swiftly and silently into the air. They all moved out of the way as Ron directed the body to float into the room, and the rest of them followed. Inside, Harry caught glimpses of the other Order members, including Dumbledore and Snape, before Ron jerked his wand towards a wooden chair that lay in the center of the room. Damien drifted eerily into it, and once Ron put his wand down the body slouched precariously to the right, in danger of toppling onto the floor.  
  
"Incarcerous!" Mad Eye Moody shouted gruffly.  
  
Ropes shot out from the end of his wand, and in a flash were tired around Damien, binding him tightly to the chair. Dumbledore nodded at Elle, and she raised her hands, lifting them in the same direction as Moody's wand. A green beam of light formed between her finger and the ropes as she held them in place with her mind.  
  
"What if the ropes don't hold him?" Elle asked Dumbledore nervously.  
  
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "Don't worry. The ropes will not allow him to Disapparate." He gave her a reassuring glance. "As long as you keep the ropes tightly in place, he’s trapped."  
  
Elle swallowed nervously. Her arms were already shaking.   
  
Dumbledore looked towards Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Neville. "Seal the windows and doors," he ordered them.  
  
The four nodded, and Harry could hear them going about shouting "Colloportus!" to every nook and cranny in the room that Damien could possibly escape out of, as well as all the places where someone could unknowingly barge in. As soon as they were done, Cho and Luna immediately placed silencing charms all around the walls, so that they would not be heard.  
  
Dumbledore directed his attention to Snape. "It’s time, Severus," he said calmly.  
  
Snape nodded, and produced a small vile of Veritaserum from the inside of his robes. He went up to the lifeless Damien, delicately tipped the contents of the vial into his mouth, and didn’t lift the bottle until every drop had disappeared.  
  
"We should hurry," Snape said, pushing his greasy hair back. "The potion won't last for very long. I could only gather a small amount on such short notice."  
  
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "We're ready."  
  
Draco then came forward, and Harry flinched a little. He hadn't been expecting Malfoy to come out of nowhere.  
  
Ignoring Harry, Draco stood behind Damien, pointed his want at the back of his head, and said, "Enervate." The room became silent, and his voice echoed almost ethereally.  
  
Damien instantly came to, though his vision seemed to be momentarily delayed, and his eyes looked slack. After blinking a few times, his sight returned, and Harry could see his face paling as he took in the Order members surrounding him, each with their wands out.  
  
Damien looked down, and when he realized he was tied up, began thrashing around in the chair, throwing his weight against the ropes as if he were trying to burst through them. Elle gritted her teeth and shut her eyes tightly, and the green glow between the ropes and her hands seemed to grow more defined.  
  
"Do not try to escape," Dumbledore said severely.  
  
Everybody in the room practically jumped at the sound of his voice. It was as if out of nowhere, Dumbledore had managed to convey an absolute fury in his tone that would make anyone shudder.  
  
"You are not going anywhere."  
  
Damien looked up at Dumbledore. "Let me go," he hissed coldly. "I don't know what you're doing here."  
  
"Oh, but you see, I know very well what you're doing here," Dumbledore said, stepping closer to Damien. "We all happen to know your little secret."  
  
Damien looked around the room, his face growing paler by the second. Harry could sense the discomfort and unease in his eyes, and couldn't help thinking,  _coward_.  
  
Damien opened his mouth, as if he were to object, but then closed it again. He looked more fearful than ever.  
  
"Do not try to lie to us," Dumbledore continued, in a calm, steely voice. "I assure you, it will do no good."  
  
Damien struggled to reach for his wand, but the ropes were binding him so tightly that he could not move his arms. Harry longed to throw a curse at him, but Dumbledore had given them strict instructions not to harm Damien unless there was cause for self-defense. Righteous anger would do nothing.  
  
"Are you going to kill me?" Damien asked, gazing emotionlessly at Dumbledore's wand.  
  
Dumbledore did not answer. "You have information about Voldemort.”  
  
Damien blinked. "Information?" he repeated.  
  
Ignoring the way his scar prickled, Harry stared determinedly at Damien.

"Tell us where Voldemort is hiding," he commanded in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
Damien shook a little, but stayed silent. Draco shoved him from behind, and jabbed his wand into the man's neck.  
  
"Answer him!" Draco commanded.  
  
Damien took a shaky breath. "His lair lies on an island west of Egypt," he answered at once, almost automatically.  
  
"How do we get there?" Hermione asked, stepping in place beside Harry.  
  
"It is a place one can only get to by sea," he responded. "No one may Apparate or Disapparate.”  
  
"Who resides there, besides your Master?" Snape asked, his lips curving into a nasty sneer.  
  
Damien winced, and appeared to be fighting against some inner urge to tell the truth. "The Dark Lord's army," he replied in a regretful tone.  
  
"And whom does his army consist of?" Harry picked up quickly.  
  
Damien swallowed. "Death Eaters," he whispered, barely audibly. "Dementors."  
  
"What about the giants?" Draco asked. "And the goblins? Are they not on your side as well?"  
  
Harry was surprised at Malfoy's question. He hadn't even thought about asking that.  
  
"The giants are still in the mountains, and will not come until they are called. The goblins…wish to stay out of it," Damien responded blandly.  
  
"And what are Voldemort's plans?" Dumbledore insisted.  
  
They had come to the crucial question, but at this, Damien did not answer right away. Instead, he turned his head a little to the left, so that he was facing Elle. Her eyes narrowed.  
  
Harry had a feeling the potion was wearing off, because Damien's eyes were looking a little less dull, and color was returning to his face. He grew instantly worried, and silently prayed that Elle would continue to hold Damien for just a little longer...  
  
"Answer the question already!" Ron yelled.  
  
Damien didn't turn around. He stared straight at Elle, smirked, and muttered only one word.  
  
"Destruction," he hissed venomously.  
  
Then, without warning, he kicked his leg out in front of him and hit Elle squarely in the shins. She gasped and lost her balance, falling backward onto the floor...  
  
"Elle, don't!" Harry called out quickly, but it was too late. Elle's hands had dropped to her side, and the green glow that had kept the ropes around Damien had vanished. In the blink of an eye, Damien ripped the ropes from his body.  
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
"Expelliarmus!"  
  
"Obliviate!"  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
It was no use what spells they shouted out. Damien dodged them all, and before they knew it, he had Disapparated, leaving nothing but an empty space in the place where he had stood.   
  
Their last hope of retrieving information on Voldemort's plans was gone.  
  



	36. Nightmares Again

Harry didn’t speak to anyone as he made his way out of the house, wanting to get away as quickly as possible. Ignoring the questioning stares of the lingering guests downstairs, he burst through the door, welcoming the late afternoon sunshine.  
  
Elle came up behind him, her expression unreadable, and held out the Portkey to their flat. Before they could grab onto it, however, Snape was on their heels, his black cloak billowing out behind him. He turned on Elle angrily.  
  
“You stupid girl,” he hissed. “After what I went through to get that potion…”  
  
Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at Snape. “Your potion lasted for about five minutes,” he said furiously, wanting to curse Snape just as badly as he wanted to find and curse Damien. “And don’t  _ever_ talk to my wife like that.”  
  
Snape stepped back, hatred in his eyes. “We’ll see what Dumbledore has to say about this…I told him you’d find a way to sabotage this mission, Potter…”  
  
Elle grabbed Harry’s arm, just as he was about to shout back.

“Harry, let’s go please,” she whispered, near tears. She held out the Portkey again, and Harry sighed.   
  
Hurriedly grabbing onto it, Harry closed his eyes and counted the seconds until they both landed safely in the middle of their frenzied front hallway.  
  
They both stood there for a while, speechless, until Elle finally broke the silence by flopping onto the couch, and burying her face into the cushion. Harry stood still, not knowing what to say or how to say it.   
  
The fact was that Elle had messed up. True, they  _had_  gotten a lot of important information from Damien, but not the  _most_  important thing. Not Voldemort's plan- the one thing they needed the most.  
  
Harry tried to think rationally. The interrogation hadn't been a complete waste. And even though he was sure most people were going to be far from pleased with Elle for letting Damien go, he had to remind himself that she was his wife, and that he had to try his best to make her feel better.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Harry walked over to where Elle was lying on the couch and sat down near the edge, staring down at her rumpled blonde head. Slowly, Elle raised herself to look at him, her green eyes wide and strands of hair covering her face.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes flickering downward. “Snape was right, I sabotaged the mission.”   
  
"Hey," Harry said gently, taking her chin in his hand and tilting it upwards. "Look at me."  
  
Elle gazed at him reluctantly.  
  
"I'm not mad at you," he continued, in a comforting tone. “You did the best you could. I didn’t see anyone else volunteer to hold Damien captive. I’d like to see Snape try what you did.”  
  
Elle sighed, and blew strands of hair away from her face. "Everybody else is probably mad, though," she responded dryly. She shook her head in shame. "How could I have let him go?" she asked quietly, partly to herself.  
  
Harry hesitated. "It wasn't really your fault," he told her. "I mean, he kicked you, and you fell over. Nobody was expecting for that to happen."  
  
"Still, I shouldn't have lost my concentration," Elle argued. "After everything Dumbledore said about not letting our guard down, the first thing I do after a minor distraction is totally screw up! I wasn't concentrating enough."  
  
Her face was turning red now, and Harry could see her eyes becoming glassy.  
  
"Now we don't even know what Voldemort's plan is, and we're never going to find out. And it's all because of me!" she muttered bitterly.  
  
"It could've gone a lot worse," Harry contradicted. "At least now we know exactly where Voldemort is, and what his army is like. That's a start, right?"  
  
Elle nodded dully, looking away from him. "I guess," she said slowly. "Everyone's still going to hate me, though. And what will Dumbledore say?"  
  
"Hey," Harry said reassuringly. "You can’t worry so much about what other people think, remember? We did the best we could, and there's no looking back now. All we have left to do is move forward, and think up a new plan.”  
  
Elle laughed hollowly. "That's all, huh? A new plan?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah," he replied, his thoughts beginning to wander. "Simple as that." He patted her hand. "At least you're not in Damien's shoes- imagine how mad HIS lot are going to be."

 

* * *

 

"My Lord," a shaky voice rang out, echoing throughout the stone walls.  
  
The emerald flames burning in the torches surrounding the room flickered.

"Damien," Voldemort hissed, his body covered by a blanket of shadows.  
  
Damien burst into the room, his pale face instantly bathed in the room's dim, greenish glow. Voldemort narrowed his eyes.  
  
"What is it?" he asked sharply. "Something has happened. Tell me."  
  
Damien flinched, and stared up at his master. "They know," he said softly, his words hanging heavily in the air.  
  
Voldemort was silent for a moment. His face slowly contorted, and his eyes narrowed into the tiniest of slits. When he spoke, however, his voice remained calm.  
  
"How much do they know?" he asked darkly.  
  
Damien trembled under his gaze. "They know where to find us," he answered, his voice quavering. "But they do not know our plan!" he added quickly, before Voldemort could grow more furious. "I could not help it, master! They caught me off guard after the funeral and gave me Veritaserum. I had no choice but to tell the truth!”  
  
Voldemort raised his wand. "I will not tolerate fools," he said forebodingly. A second later, Damien was on the hard, stone ground, writing and screaming in invisible torture.  
  
"How dare you humiliate me in this manner," he continued, despite Damien's constant shouts. "Do you realize what you could have done? You could have ruined everything we've been working toward! You could have damaged every chance we've ever had at destroying Harry Potter!"  
  
He lifted his wand, and Damien lay motionless.  
  
Voldemort sighed, though he was still fuming. "You have disappointed me," he said lowly, staring at the pathetic lump before him. "Because of you, the potion needs to be completed even more quickly, before Potter and his friends decide to do something incredibly stupid. Our time is running out."

He glared at Damien. "Once the potion is ready, I will have one last task for you to complete," Voldemort told him softly.  
  
Damien raised his eyes. "L-last task, my Lord?" he stuttered.  
  
Voldemort nodded. "Mess up again," he hissed, "and it will be the last thing you ever do."  
  
He stood up, and moved toward the door. "Alert the army," he ordered Damien. "We have a battle to prepare for."

* * *

"Ouch!!!"  
  
Elle jumped and looked around at Harry, startled out of her mind. "What's wrong?" she asked curiously.  
  
The two of them had been in the middle of getting ready for bed, when Harry had suddenly stopped and clamped a hand over his forehead, his eyes shut tight against the pain. Elle dropped the pillow she was holding and scrambled across the bed to get to Harry, who was standing on the other side.  
  
"What is it?" she insisted. "Is it your scar?"  
  
Harry nodded his head, gritting his teeth at the throbbing pangs now shooting through his forehead. "It's Voldemort," he muttered bitterly. "He's...he's really angry."  
  
Elle waited patiently until the pain had subsided, and Harry lowered his hand. She looked at him questioningly. "Did you see him?" she asked hesitantly. "Did you actually see Voldemort?"  
  
Harry shook his head carefully. "No," he replied softly. "But I can tell that he's furious. He must have found out about Damien.”  
  
Elle studied him, not really knowing what to do. "Are you okay?" she asked, after a few moments. "Does your scar still hurt?"  
  
Harry squinted and rubbed his forehead. "A little," he answered. Truth was, it burned like hell, but he didn't want to scare Elle.  
  
"You’re lying,” Elle said ruefully. “You’re in a lot of pain, you just don’t want to scare me. Do you want me to get you some ice or something?" she asked. "Or, I don't know...a Band-Aid maybe?"  
  
Harry groaned. He doubted a Band-Aid would be much help. "Channeling Madam Pomfrey, are you?" he said, attempting a joke.  
  
Elle frowned. "I'm just trying to help."  
  
He sighed. "It's okay. I'm fine, really. Let's just get into bed."  
  
"Are you sure?" Elle asked, scooting back over to her side and throwing back the covers. "Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Harry forced a small smile as he removed his glasses. "No, I'm fine. I'll be better in the morning."  
  
Elle flicked off the lights with a point of her finger. "Alright," she said, a bit uncertainly. "If you're sure."  
  
They both lay silently for a while, and after a couple of minutes Harry could hear Elle's steady breathing as she drifted off to sleep. He knew she wanted to help him, but there was nothing she could do. Harry took a deep breath and tried to relax, but his scar kept on prickling. Voldemort hadn't been this furious in a long time...surely, wherever Damien was tonight, he was paying for his mistake.  
  
Harry turned over onto his side, and let the cool, night air soothe the pain on his forehead. After a few hours had passed, he finally felt some relief, and drifted into a calm, restful sleep. Before he could become fully relaxed, however, Elle let out an earth-shattering scream and shot up in bed, breathing heavily, completely white-faced.  
  
Harry bolted up as well, his scar giving off another painful twinge.

"What is it?" he asked tiredly. When he didn't receive an answer, he turned to his side. "Elle?"  
  
She didn't appear to have heard him. Harry could tell that something had frightened her though, because she was shaking uncontrollably and her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the wall in front of her. She appeared to be hyperventilating. Harry frowned.   
  
"Elle?" he repeated, a little louder this time. He reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched, and slowly turned her head, raising her eyes to look at him. "What happened?"  
  
She swallowed, still unable to stop shaking. "It was the nightmare," she whispered, her eyes wide. “Or, the panic attack, whatever you want to call it.”   
  
Harry drew back, surprised. "You mean the same nightmare you had last summer?" he asked.  
  
Elle nodded. "It's been exactly a year since I last had it," she explained. "Remember? Just before my seventeenth birthday."  
  
Harry turned to his bedside table and picked up his watch. Putting on his glasses, he yawned and read the time. It was already three in the morning. Elle had been eighteen for three hours.  
  
Yawning again, he turned back towards Elle. "Do you remember what you dreamt?" he asked.  
  
She sighed, and shook her head. "Barely," she admitted. "But...it was almost as if they were real. Like they were in this very room.”  
  
Harry watched her closely, his heart beginning to beat a little faster. She wasn't making any sense. 

"Who are 'they'?" he questioned.  
  
Elle lowered her eyes. "I'm not sure," she replied. "It was dark...but there was a green glow...and their eyes..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "And it was cold," she whispered weakly. "So cold."  
  
"It's okay," Harry said softly, taking her hand. "It's all over now."  
  
Not caring to explain anymore, Elle leaned against him. Harry wrapped his arms around her, though yanked them back slightly as soon as he felt her clammy skin. She was freezing cold, her hair was damp, and she was still shaking. Harry knew he had to do something.  
  
"Come on," he said gently, pulling back the covers. "I think this calls for a round of tea. I'll go make some, and you can stay here and get some rest."  
  
This seemed all right with her at first, and she leaned back onto the pillows without arguing. Harry made to get up and go to the kitchen, but Elle suddenly reached out and stopped him before he could stand.  
  
"Harry, please don't leave me," she shakily. “It’s not over. This wasn’t just a dream, or a panic attack. It felt more like…a premonition.”   
  
Harry stared at her. It wasn't like Elle to be so clingy and mysterious, but she was obviously not herself tonight. Harry decided it was best not to argue.  
  
"Don't worry," he said comfortingly, sinking back into bed and running his hands up and down her shoulders to warm her up. "I'm right here. You're safe."  
  
Elle nodded and closed her eyes, resting her head on top of his chest. Harry sighed, and involuntarily stroked her hair, his scar prickling painfully again.  
  
The room quieted down, though Harry stayed alert and watchful. He had an odd feeling that something just wasn't right, and he wanted to remain awake just in case.  
  
However, nothing happened, and eventually Harry began to relax. Neither him nor Elle got much sleep, and once Harry was sure Elle had recovered from her nightmare, he decided to forget about getting rest and got out of bed. He dressed and went into the kitchen, and a few moments later Elle trudged in, still with her pajamas on. She looked like a wreck, but Harry didn't comment. He watched as she sat herself down on one of their spindly little chairs, and rested her head on the table.  
  
He gave a huge yawn. "Coffee?" he asked her sleepily, pouring some into two moldy, chipped mugs.  
  
"Please," came Elle's muffled response.  
  
Harry carried one of the steaming mugs over to her, and she looked up at him with dark circles under her weary eyes. Harry imagined that he probably looked the same.  
  
"So," Elle asked, as she slowly brought the cup to her lips and took a big gulp. "Did you get any sleep last night?"  
  
Harry shook his head, drinking deeply from his own mug. "Not really," he responded exhaustedly. "Scar was bothering me."  
  
Elle drained her coffee in one huge swig and replaced the mug back onto the table. "I'm really sorry for waking you up," she told him apologetically.  
  
"Don't apologize," he replied. "I want you to come to me about your nightmares, that's what I tried to tell you last year. How are you? You were shaking and shivering the whole night."  
  
Elle waved her hand carelessly. "I'm fine," she responded. "It was nothing, just a stupid nightmare."  
  
Harry gave her a look. It was the same response he had given her when she asked about his scar.   
  
"It was not nothing," he said seriously. "You know that just as well as I do."  
  
Elle sighed. "There's nothing I can do anyway. Let's just forget about it, okay?"  
  
Harry finished his coffee and placed it into the sink, where a bunch of other dirty dishes and silverware were already piled up, threatening to topple over. He turned away from it and gave her a grin.  
  
"Happy birthday," he said, going over to her and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.  
  
Elle gave him a tired smile. "Thanks," she said. “If this is what eighteen is like, I shudder to think about the rest of the year.”  She held out her empty cup. "Refill?"

* * *

"Hello again, everyone. If we could all please take our seats?"  
  
Elle and Harry both sat side by side at the long table, and focused their undivided attention on Dumbledore. Neither was looking forward to this meeting. Elle had had a feeling that she'd be faced with dirty looks, and she was right.

As soon as she and Harry had landed in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, nobody even bothered saying a word to her. They just shook their heads and walked past, and Elle could've sworn she heard Parvati mutter under her breath to Hannah, "She's the reason our whole plan got ruined; she let that Death Eater get away."  
  
Hermione noticed everyone glowering in Elle's direction, and shook her head.

"Just ignore them," she had whispered to Elle. "Most of them have no idea what really happened. They didn’t see him kick you."  
  
"Yeah," Ron said. "They're just looking for a stupid reason to gossip."  
  
Now, as Elle sat next to Harry and listened to Dumbledore recap the events of the funeral, she couldn't help but feel more ashamed. Her cheeks grew red and she bit down on the insides of them to keep from opening her mouth. What was their problem? Couldn't they see it had all been an accident? That she hadn't meant to let Damien get away, and ruin their plan? Or did they all think she'd meant to sabotage them?  
  
She sat up a little straighter and tried to listen more closely to Dumbledore, while avoiding eye contact with everyone at the same time. He was talking about how even though they had "unintentionally" missed their chance to find out Voldemort's plan, they could still put the information they had been given to good use.  
  
"However, before we go into any discussion about devising a new plan, there will be a slight change taking place," Dumbledore was saying now. "I have decided that it would be best for us to resume meeting in the Room of Requirement. There, we will begin using our swords again. Meetings will, for the most part, be held every Saturday. Your Hogwarts portkeys lead directly into the Room of Requirement, so there's no chance of any of you getting caught roaming around the school.”

The groupcontinued to ask Dumbledore questions about what they were going to do next, but Dumbledore told them to wait until the next meeting before they discussed any specific plans.  
  
Elle was immensely glad the meeting was a short one. As the meeting dispersed, Elle had a sudden idea and jumped out of her seat. Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at her questioningly.  
  
"I'll be right back," she told them quickly, and rushed off.  
  
Harry shrugged at his friends, and they all got up from their chairs and moved into the other room, where people remained chatting with one another.  
  
"So," Ron said, as they watched the others leave. "Looks like it's back to Hogwarts."  
  
"Yes," said Hermione. "I suppose it's better this way, isn't it? We're all used to practicing the swords there anyway."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Harry replied. He spotted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley heading towards the fireplace with Ginny, and noticed that Mrs. Weasley threw a small scowl over towards Ron. Ron pretended not to notice, though the tips of his ears turned red.  
  
"I gather you and your mum are still arguing over moving out?" Harry said casually to Ron.  
  
Ron shrugged, disgruntled. "Yeah, a little bit," he replied. "She keeps telling me to grow up and act more mature, yet when I finally do, she still treats me like a little kid!”  
  
Hermione shook her head sympathetically. "Your mum will get used to the idea soon," she said simply. "She's just worried about all of her children being in the Order, and Ginny missing so much school. And just think how nice it will be when we're finally on our own."  
  
Ron grinned. "Yeah, and when we get to be alone together every night..."  
  
"Okay, guys!" Harry said, quickly stopping them before they shared any more romantic details. "I think I get the point." He turned to Ron. "Good luck, mate. Sometimes I think living with women is tougher than dealing with Death Eaters."  
  
Ron laughed. "Hey, if you can handle it, I can handle it."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "How're things with you and Elle?" she asked Harry.  
  
Harry sighed. "Everything's fine. Today's her birthday, so I'll probably take her out later. She's feeling pretty upset about what happened with Damien."  
  
His face clouded over, remembering what had happened last night with the nightmare, and his scar. Ron and Hermione both noticed the look on his face, and Hermione frowned.  
  
"Is something wrong?" she asked.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Nothing, really. Just…my scar was burning again last night."  
  
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Well, that's to be expected," she told him. "Voldemort was bound to be angry after finding out what Damien told us."  
  
Ron looked alarmed. "You really think he found out that quickly?"  
  
Harry nodded. "He did,” he replied, thinking back to last night, and the flashes of Voldemort's furious emotions.  
  
"Maybe you should tell Dumbledore," Hermione suggested.  
  
Harry sighed. "What's the point? My scar is old news by now." He looked around, craning his neck to see where Elle had gone. What did she have to do that was so important?  
  
As it turned out, Harry was the only one who didn’t want to speak to Dumbledore. Elle felt that if she didn't speak with him that instant, then she would continue to feel guilty about Damien. She hurried to where the older Order members were standing, so that she could pull him aside.  
  
"Excuse me, Professor, but may I speak with you for a moment?" she asked. She saw Snape give her a look of deep loathing from the corner of the room.   
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Certainly," he said.  
  
He followed her over to a spot in the corner, and when she was sure nobody else was listening, Elle began to speak.  
  
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I know that you trusted me to keep Damien from escaping, and I'm sorry for letting you down." She looked up at him seriously. "I wanted to make sure you knew that I didn't do it on purpose. And if you want to kick me out of the Order, I'll understand."  
  
Dumbledore gave her an amused look. "Mrs. Potter, I know you are sorry for what happened. But trust me- I do not hold anything against you.” His eyes gleamed. "And believe me, you're not getting out of the Order that easily."  
  
Elle let out a deep breath, fully relieved. "Thank you, Sir," she said, grateful that he had not gotten angry with her. Dumbledore gave her a gentle smile.  
  
"You have to put more faith into those powers of yours," he continued, noticing Elle's hesitation. "You are stronger than you think. All you need to work on is your concentration. Again, I am sorry your parents are not alive to help you with this. But it is not your fault."  
  
Elle nodded. But after a few seconds of temporary relief, a bad feeling passed over her. It was a feeling she had had ever since her and Harry had gotten married. A feeling like something bad was going to happen.  
  
Dumbledore stopped smiling, and looked down at her. "Was there something else you wanted to tell me?" he asked gently.  
  
Elle thought back to her nightmare. Should she tell him? She had already told Harry it was nothing. Although, in all honesty, she  _did_  think it was something. It had seemed so real. But no, Dumbledore probably wouldn't think it was very interesting. And she didn't think she'd be able to fully explain it to him anyway. How could she, when she herself didn't know what it meant? Besides, Dumbledore had more important things to be getting on with. He didn't have time to listen about her silly little nightmares.  
  
"No," she finally answered, after thinking hard. "That's it. Thanks for the advice, Professor."  
  
As she left Dumbledore and turned to make her way back to Harry, she saw Parvati coming towards her.  
  
"Oh no," she whispered to herself.  _What now?_  
  
"So, what was that all about?" Parvati asked, blocking her way.  
  
"Um, I don't think that's any of your business," Elle answered, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
Parvati glared at her. "You know, Lavender may have forgiven you, but I haven't. You're still just a pathetic, attention-seeking snob, and you deliberately sabotaged the Order's plans.”   
  
Elle looked at her fiercely. "First of all Parvati, I don't have to prove to you that what happened at the funeral was an accident. If you don't believe me, fine, but you can ask Dumbledore yourself. And second, forgive me for what? I haven't done a thing to you! If anything, you should be asking for  _my_  forgiveness!" She narrowed her eyes. "After all, you were the one who kissed my husband!"  
  
Parvati shook her head, and put her hands on her hips. "That was nothing compared to the damage I  _could_  do to you."  
  
Elle gazed at her in disbelief. "Are you _threatening_  me?"  
  
Parvati's eyes gleamed angrily. "All I know is, when it comes time to finally face Voldemort, it's going to be you who ends up messing up and getting the rest of us killed. And since I'm the only one who seems to realize this, it's up to me to make sure that doesn't happen."  
  
Elle continued to stare at her. "I hate to break it to you Parvati, but it's not up to you at all. It's up to Dumbledore, and he just so happens to be on my side."  
  
"We'll see about that," Parvati said hotly. "How many more 'accidents' do you think he's going to take? Just face it Elle; you're not meant to be in this Order."  
  
Elle bit her lip. "And what are you planning to do about this?" she asked, determined not to let her voice shake.  
  
"Let's just say, if you mess up again," Parvati hissed, "it will be the last thing you ever do."  
  
She stalked away, leaving Elle standing mystified in her wake. After a few moments of gathering her thoughts, Elle shook her head, and continued to go find Harry.  
  
"Bring it on, Parvati," she muttered under her breath. "Bring it  _on_."

 

* * *

 

The first Order meeting back at Hogwarts was postponed, as students got settled back at school. In the meantime, Order members received regular updates by owl post.

On September 1st, the day after Elle's birthday, the four of them went to go wish Ginny farewell at King’s Cross Station, and told her they'd see her at Hogwarts soon. Harry could tell Ginny felt left out by having to be so far away from them, but unfortunately, she and Luna were the only ones who had one more year of school left.  
  
As they left the platform, Harry caught sight of a white-blond head walking towards Ginny. Being careful not to make it too obvious that he was watching, Harry looked on as Malfoy and Ginny shared a quick conversation, and then Ginny gave him a hurried hug before hopping onto the train and slamming the compartment doors shut. Harry turned back around and hastily led the way out of the station before Ron could spot Malfoy.  
  
The next two weeks were spent at home, with Harry and Elle practicing for their Apparating tests. In celebration of her birthday, he had taken her out to eat at a fancy restaurant in Hogsmeade, but ever since that night she had acted as though something were bothering her. They had stopped at the Three Broomsticks afterward and took a stroll around the village, Elle often pausing in their conversation to gaze thoughtfully at the lights twinkling from the castle windows in the distance. She had confided to Harry about apologizing to Dumbledore, but Harry wondered whether somebody else had said something to her. He noticed she had stopped using wandless magic.   
  
In the meantime, Ron and Hermione were out and about, searching for a small, inexpensive flat. Harry and Elle helped, though they only hoped that Ron and Hermione’s place wouldn't be as dingy as the one Harry and Elle currently lived in. Though Harry had to admit, it looked immensely different now than it had when they first moved in.

Elle had finished decorating all the walls (the color had been changed from bright green into a cool mahogany), and Harry had overseen replacing all the furniture and repairing the broken windows. It didn't take that much effort; after a few waves of the wand and experimentation with spell-o-tape, everything seemed to be coming out quite nicely. Mrs. Weasley had even been kind enough to lend them a book of simple household spells, which both Potters found extremely helpful.  
  
On Harry and Elle's one-month anniversary, Ron and Hermione finally found a cozy, one-bedroom flat that turned out to be close by, and not overly expensive. Hermione's parents (who were far more easygoing than Ron's) chipped in some money, and after checking out the flat for themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley finally gave in and agreed to support the idea by helping to supply some gold for the down payment. Within another day or two (and with the assistance of Harry and Elle), Hermione and Ron were all moved in and settled. Harry had to admit, Ron and Hermione's flat was a bit nicer, though the one he shared with Elle was bigger, had a whole extra bedroom, and came with loads of security.  
  
October dawned, and so did the day before the first Order meeting at Hogwarts. But first, they had their Apparating exams. Harry, Elle, Hermione, and Ron all went down to the Ministry of Magic together. As the four of them walked towards the elevators, Harry felt a slight twinge of déjà vu- he remembered all too well the last time he was here.  
  
Clanging the elevator doors shut, they rode in silence up to level six, where the Apparition test center was located. After signing in and waiting for what felt like forever, they were each called up one by one, and brought into a separate room. Ron was called first, then Hermione, then Elle, and finally, it was Harry's turn.

Once he entered the room, an elderly witch with short, silver hair instructed him to fill out an application for his Apparating license, and then to stand in the center of the room. Once he had followed her orders, she told him to clear his mind and to Apparate and Disapparate neatly and smoothly to each corner of the room, returning right where he stood when he was done (points would be taken off for misdirection, and for leaving body parts behind).  
  
Harry closed his eyes, and quickly did as he was told, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed that came along with Apparating. He didn't open his eyes until he had returned expertly to the center of the room. The witch gave him a satisfied smile.  
  
"Well done," she said approvingly. "And who was your Apparating instructor?"  
  
"Professor Remus Lupin," Harry responded proudly.  
  
The witch nodded, and marked something down on the parchment in front of her.  
  
"Very well," she said. "Now, can you repeat to me the rules for Apparating and Disapparating?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath, and recited the rules Professor Lupin had taught them, such as not to do so in the presence of a muggle. When he was done, the witch beamed at him and declared with great delight that he had passed. He thanked her, and she promptly pointed him into the room next door, where a wizard proceeded to snap his picture and place the photograph onto a piece of parchment which read, " **The Ministry of Magic** " in gold letters on the back.  
  
Harry walked back into the corridor holding his new license, and met up with Ron, Hermione, and Elle. Elle jumped up and threw her arms around him when she saw him.  
  
"Congratulations!" she exclaimed. "I'm so proud of you!"  
  
"Thanks," Harry laughed. "Wow, you actually passed too?"  
  
"You sound so surprised." Elle let go of him and produced her own license. "But I did kind of mess up at one point. There was this scary old man testing me, and he spoke with such a heavy accent that I could hardly understand what he was saying. He kept telling me to clear my  _mind_ , and I thought he meant to Apparate towards his be _hind_. I was wondering why he kept turning around and giving me these weird looks."  
  
Harry laughed again, and shook his head. "And what about you two?" he asked Ron and Hermione.  
  
They both grinned and held out their licenses.  
  
"I think this calls for a celebration!" Ron announced happily.  
  
"Definitely," Hermione replied. "Let's head back to our place. We'll have a round of butterbeers." She winked at Harry and Elle. "It's on me."  
  
Harry and Elle both agreed to go back to Ron and Hermione's new flat (they Apparated there, of course), and soon the four of them were gathered around the spacious living room, gulping down butterbeer after butterbeer and jumping around, laughing. Basically, they were all blowing off some much-needed steam. Harry and Ron staged a wrestling match, which was soon followed by two on two thumb war competitions, and was concluded by karaoke performances.  
  
Harry was feeling especially cheerful, because for the first time in weeks, Elle seemed to have forgotten whatever it was that was bothering her. She was having a good time, which put a smile on Harry's face more than any thumb war, or warped version of "Wannabe", ever could.  
  
Their celebration lasted until two in the morning, until Harry began to feel drowsy and suggested to Elle that they head home. They said goodnight to Ron and Hermione and took the Portkey home, since the luxury of Apparating was forbidden within their residence.  
  
Both fell into bed the second they got home, though they were still laughing and joking over how, out of all people, Hermione was the thumb war champion, Elle kicked Harry's butt at wrestling, and Ron was named Karaoke King. Neither of them had had any trouble waking up with nightmares or burning scars since the night before Elle's birthday, so both snuggled under the covers and turned out the lights, anticipating their first Order meeting and expecting a nice, long, relaxing sleep.   
  
Harry turned on his side and immediately fell into a deep slumber with a warm, happy feeling inside of him.  
  
As the night dragged on, however, Elle found it harder and harder to get to sleep. Yet, it wasn't terrifying nightmares that were keeping her awake. This time, the problem was something entirely different.  
  
She tried to sustain the sudden queasy feeling, but as the night grew on, Elle knew the nausea would only get worse. Throwing back the covers, she leapt out of bed and dashed for the bathroom, locking herself in. Grasping the seat with one hand, and holding her hair back with the other, she threw up as quietly as she could. Closing her eyes, she hurriedly flushed and leaned back against the cool, tiled wall, coughing and gasping for breath.  
  
Once her sickness had subsided, Elle sat there awhile, thinking. It had been a long time since she'd been ill, but perhaps she had caught a bug from somewhere. Or maybe, she had drunk one too many butterbeers over at Ron and Hermione's place. Yes, that had to be it...  
  
Suddenly, Elle caught sight of the cabinet under the sink, where she had been storing her tampons, and something within her brain seemed to click. She had always been a little irregular, but was never as late as this. After a quick look at the unopened boxes, and a run-through of her mental calendar, her mind was positively racing. She thought of Harry, and her heart constricted in horror.  
  
"Okay, don't panic," she whispered to herself. "Everything's fine. This doesn't mean anything."

But still, the thought continued to nag at her.  
  
Quietly, so as not to wake Harry, she quickly stood up and brushed her teeth. Then, she unlocked the door and tiptoed back to bed. Harry shifted a little in his sleep, and Elle froze, praying that he would not open his eyes and see her like this. However, he kept on sleeping, and Elle breathed a thankful sigh of relief as she got back into bed.

 

* * *

 

By the next day, Harry was more than ready to go back to Hogwarts and begin fighting with the swords again. It had been so long, and he was itching to get his hands back on the Flame. He felt the same way every time he was deprived of flying; it was almost like when the blade touched his fingertips, he felt an adrenaline rush, and a tingling sensation of heat always surged through his fingertips, as if every inch of his body was aware of the powerful weapon he held in his hands.  
  
That night, Harry's insides were practically squirming with excitement. But as usual, Elle was running late. She kept storming from room to room, looking for something and shouting for Harry to help her find it. Her hands were behind her head, tying up her hair in a messy topknot, and her wand was currently held in her mouth. Also, she only wore one shoe.  
  
Harry still didn't know why she bothered bringing her wand, but she kept insisting that she wasn’t up to using wandless magic. He was just about to suggest that they leave, and forget about whatever it was she couldn't find, because they were already very late. But then, Elle appeared before him, her hands and mouth still occupied.  
  
Harry gave her an amused grin. "I hope you're not planning on showing up like that."  
  
Elle laughed, and finished putting her hair up, finally taking her wand out of her mouth and pocketing it. She was in such a good mood, that she didn't even care that Harry was making fun of her. She hadn't thrown up, or felt sick since the night before, and had decided to write that one little incident off as a fluke. It wasn't like she suspected anything was seriously wrong with her, but all the same, she was happy not to have to deal with it. From now on, she was going to be more careful...particularly during alone time with Harry.  
  
"Harry, for the third time, have you seen my other shoe?" she asked, looking around to see if she spotted it.  
  
"Oh, was that what you were looking for?" Harry asked. "I couldn't understand with you mumbling like that."  
  
As Elle ignored him and continued to search, Harry spotted something shiny poking out of a huge pile of clothes near the foot of their closet. Slowly, the shoe rose off the floor all by itself, and began to float over towards Elle. She may not have wanted to use wandless magic, but it appeared that her powers were still finding a way to seep out.   
  
Slyly, before she could see what he was doing, Harry caught it right out of thin air and dangled the shoe in front of his face.  
  
"Is this it?" he asked.  
  
Elle looked up at him, and her eyes widened.  
  
"Hey, you found it!" she cried, reaching up to snatch it out of his hands.  
  
Harry yanked it higher, out of her reach. "Why didn't you just say 'Accio shoe'?" he asked, curiously.  
  
Elle put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Hello? Have you seen how many shoes I have? I didn't want them to all come flying at me at once." She reached for her shoe once again, but Harry raised it even higher. She threw him an exasperated look.  
  
"What's your problem? Give it!" she exclaimed, though she couldn't help giggling at the playful look on Harry's face.  
  
"Or what?" Harry teased. "You'll hex me for a shoe?"  
  
Elle grinned mischievously. "Don't tempt me," she replied, in an evil voice.  
  
When Harry didn't budge, Elle sighed and walked away from him.  
  
"Fine, be that way!" she called over her shoulder. "I guess you can go to Hogwarts all by yourself. Have fun playing with the swords!"  
  
Harry grinned to himself, and pretended to examine the shoe. "You know, this looks kind of expensive," he said, feigning thoughtfulness. "I'm sure I could get the other pair and sell it somewhere. I bet Madam Malkin's might like some new shoes to go with their robes. But then again, you  _did_  show me how to use eBay..."  
  
Elle paused for a moment, chewing on her lip and pondering this, before dashing back towards Harry, jumping onto his back, and knocking him to the ground.  
  
"Potter, you give me that shoe right now!" she shouted.  
  
They wrestled on the floor for a few minutes, laughing and yelling until Elle finally pulled out of Harry's grasp, her hand triumphantly shooting up in the air, holding her shoe. "Ah ha!" she exclaimed gleefully.  
  
Harry stood up and brushed himself off. "Alright, alright," he said lightly. "You got your shoe back, Cinderella. Now can we please go? We're already late."  
  
Elle gave him a cheeky smile, and slipped on her shoe. "Ready when you are."  
  
Within a matter of seconds, thanks to the Portkey, they were standing in the middle of the Room of Requirement. It seemed as if a whole lifetime had passed since they had last been there, though it did feel good to be back. Being surrounded by all the magic and mystery that overflowed inside the walls of Hogwarts made Harry feel almost euphoric, and even though he'd only been gone a mere four months, it felt like years. Maybe because, for the first time, he wasn't here as a student.  
  
Dumbledore greeted them all as usual, and waited patiently while they collected their swords. Harry's fingers buzzed with anticipation the second the weapon was in his hands. He partnered up with Ron, who was holding onto his Shadow Sword, hardly able to wait until Dumbledore gave them the signal to start.  
  
Elle partnered up with Hermione, and stared down at the so-called Goddess Dagger, before sneaking a jealous glance at her friend's Eagle Talon. Maybe it had just been a while, but her sword seemed to have shrunk. She didn't see how it would ever be able to cause damage to anybody. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if it was sharp enough to draw blood. It looked more like something to butter toast with. Voldemort and his Death Eaters would take one look at it, and laugh their heads off.  
  
"Before we begin," Dumbledore said, holding up his hands. "Allow me to introduce the other, but most important, part of our army."  
  
All heads turned towards the door, and when they saw who entered, a collective gasp sounded throughout the room. About three hundred or so house elves, all of them marching together in pairs, were now filing into the Room of Requirement.  
  
Twitters and laughs could be heard among the younger Order members, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione craned their necks, looking for Dobby. It didn't take long to spot him. The little elf came running over, his tea cozy practically wobbling off his head, beaming excitedly.  
  
"Harry Potter sir!" he squeaked, his huge round eyes shining with excitement. "Dobby was wondering when he would see you again, sir! Professor Dumbledore told Dobby that we was to be fighting..." he paused, and looked wildly around, before hissing, "you-know-who!"  
  
Harry laughed. "It's good to see you again, Dobby," he told the elf. "You're very brave for helping us fight."

Dobby bowed his head, the tips of his ears glowing.   
  
People were looking curiously around at Harry as he conversed with the house elf, and some were giggling and pointing fingers. The other house elves had come into the room, and were going around to all the students, bowing and curtsying politely. Dobby smiled ever more excitedly, and hopped up and down on the balls of his feet.  
  
"What has Harry Potter been up to?”  
  
Harry grinned again. "Well, Dobby, now that you mention it..."  
  
"What are you guys doing over here?" Elle asked, suddenly popping up behind Harry.  
  
"Elle, there's someone I want you to meet," he said. "Dobby, this is my wife, Elle. Elle, this is Dobby, the greatest house elf in the world."  
  
Elle looked down, shocked, but quickly grinned at him. "Hi Dobby," she said, bending down and holding out her hand. "It's nice to meet you. Harry never stops talking about you," she added, thinking on her feet. Harry grinned in relief, as he was sure he had only mentioned Dobby to her once or twice during their Sixth Year.   
  
Dobby blushed a deep red color, and lowered his ears. "It is nice to meet you too, miss," he said earnestly, taking her hand and shaking it excitedly. "Harry Potter is a very lucky wizard indeed!"   
  
Harry shook his head, amused. "Dobby, you remember Ron and Hermione?"  
  
Dobby nodded quickly. "Oh yes, Dobby remembers them very well!” He flung his tiny arms around Ron, and then did the same with Hermione.  
  
Ron laughed. "How's it going, Dobby?" he asked.  
  
But before Dobby could answer, Dumbledore cleared his throat to take some attention off the house elves, who were now standing in a neat little row at the back of the room. Dobby gave an alarmed squeak.  
  
"Dobby must go now," he whispered hurriedly.  
  
He rushed away, and went to go take his place in line with the other elves. The Order members got back into their pairs.  
  
"Um...Hermione?" Elle said quietly, as the girls stood across from each other again.   
  
Hermione looked up at her. "Yeah?" she whispered, fully aware that Dumbledore was getting ready to speak, and that all eyes were on him.  
  
Elle swallowed nervously. She could feel her face getting hot, and was soon filled with a sudden, sick, nauseous feeling. The room suddenly became dizzy.  
  
Hermione was now frowning at her friend curiously. "What's wrong?" she whispered.  
  
Elle took a slow, shaky breath. "I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered back.  
  
Hermione looked taken aback. "Was it something you ate?"  
  
Elle shook her head, and laid her sword on the ground. Hermione was always able to help her with lots of things, but Elle doubted she'd be able to help with this.  
  
 _I need a toilet_ , she thought desperately.  _And some privacy._  
  
As soon as the thought left her mind, she saw a door appear on the far side of the room, that looked as if it had come out of nowhere. Elle breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Be right back," she hissed to Hermione, who was looking at her oddly. Then, making sure everybody still had their eyes on Dumbledore (especially Harry), she sneakily slipped out from the crowd and rushed towards the door, opening it up and closing it behind her before anybody knew what she was doing. Inside stood a ceramic chamber pot, and Elle dashed towards it, being sick for the second time in less than two days.  
  
In the meantime, Harry remained standing across from Ron, oblivious to the fact that his wife was no longer in front of Hermione.  
  
"Now that you've all gotten acquainted with the house elf staff at Hogwarts, I'd like to use this opportunity to let you know that our energetic friends will be fighting alongside us during our battle against Voldemort. Although many of you may not be aware, house elves are extremely powerful creatures. And since they have willingly agreed to help us fight, they are also our most powerful allies. Let's try our best to all work together, because teamwork is the only thing that will make our army as strong as Voldemort's."  
  
He clapped his hands.  
  
"Right, now please have your swords at the ready!" he bellowed.  
  
In one motion, every person had his or her sword in position, ready to attack. Dumbledore grinned.  
  
"Excellent," he said. "Now let's begin, shall we? We have a battle to prepare for."


	37. A Different Kind of Adventure

“Come on, Hermione! Just make a decision already!"  
  
"What are you talking about? We've only been here a few minutes!"  
  
"Well, it feels like forever! How long do you need to look at a couch, anyway?"  
  
"Ron, this is our home, and if you think I'm going to settle for a structurally unsound piece of furniture..."  
  
"But do we really need a couch? All you do is sit on it."  
  
"Are you a child? Did you sit on the floor whilst growing up in the Burrow? Besides, we also need tables, and chairs, and dishes..."  
  
"Uh, guys?" Harry cut in, as they continued to bicker. "Not that this isn't fun, but don't you think we should be moving on? You can't stand here arguing all day."  
  
The three of them were in the middle of a small, bustling furniture store somewhere in Diagon Alley, picking out furnishings for Ron and Hermione's new flat. Harry hadn't even known this shop existed, but Hermione insisted that she remembered spotting it, and so she had decided to bring them there on this Friday afternoon for some shopping.  
  
The only reason Harry had agreed to go was so he could keep Ron company. After all, he'd seen the look of fright on Ron's face when Hermione suggested they go shopping, and he couldn't let his friend go through that torture alone. He had asked Elle if she wanted to come, but she declined the invitation, saying she was too tired. He had thought this odd, since Elleloved shopping.  
  
After another hour of arguing over every single piece of furniture that was for sale, they finally left the store. Hermione was looking very satisfied- she had placed bundles of orders scheduled for delivery to their flat within the next couple of days. Ron, happy to be finished, wrapped his arms around Hermione, taking pleasure from the contented look on her face.  
  
“We have a couch! We’re like real adults!” he exclaimed, as Hermione laughed.   
  
Harry was just glad to get out of there; people were starting to stare at him, as always happened whenever he was in a small space for too long.  
  
As they walked back down Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione and Ron became involved in a steady stream of conversation over last week's Order meeting. Harry didn't say much, and just listened to them talk.  
  
They had come up with a new plan that involved traveling to Voldemort's hideout, sneaking up on him and his army, and attacking them. It was simple enough in theory, though definitely not as easy to carry out. However, Dumbledore seemed convinced that they could make it work; the only problem was, now that Voldemort was aware of Damien's confession, he would be expecting some sort of attack, and would therefore be better prepared when the Order came.  
  
As they neared the pub, the conversation on the Orders plans faded. Hermione turned away from Ron and faced Harry.  
  
"Speaking of the Order meeting," she said slowly, almost slyly. "Is everything okay with Elle?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Sure. Why would anything be wrong with her?"  
  
"Well..." Hermione hesitated. "She seemed a little off. Just before we were going to begin fighting, she became pale, and she said she felt sick. Then she spent the whole night in the loo."  
  
Ron frowned in concern. "But she was fine while we were talking to Dobby, and I saw her fighting with you!"  
  
Hermione shrugged. "She came back towards the end. She said it must have been food poisoning."  
  
Harry was staring at Hermione in total disbelief.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "She never mentioned anything to me."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she asked, mildly surprised.  
  
Harry nodded. "Why, do you think she’s sick?"  
  
Hermione shook her head slowly.  
  
"No, I'm sure everything's fine," she said. "Just do me a favor and talk to her, okay Harry?"  
  
Harry frowned. "Okay," he said, now extremely worried, and kicking himself for not paying more attention earlier when Elle said she was tired.  
  
They exited the Alley through the Leaky Cauldron, and then headed back down the streets of London. After telling them that he'd see them later, Harry headed home. Throwing the Portkey and his jacket aside, Harry walked through the house, calling out, "Elle?"  
  
"Harry?" came her response. "You're home?"  
  
She strode out of their bedroom, wearing a tank top and pajama pants. She looked like she had been confined to the bed all day.   
  
"Hey!" she said, sounding as if she were trying extra hard to be cheerful. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "How was shopping?"  
  
Harry gave her the once over before answering. She tasted like toothpaste, and seemed a bit pale, but other than that she looked fine.

"Were you still sleeping?" he asked, ignoring her question.  
  
Elle sighed. "Yeah, like I said, I’ve been pretty tired lately. All that sword fighting, I guess.”  
  
Harry was now looking at her strangely. Elle crossed her arms over her chest.   
  
"What?" she asked, a little too defensively.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Nothing," he replied hurriedly, wondering if he should mention the food poisoning. "Uh- shopping was fine."  
  
Elle tucked her hair behind her ears. "I wish I could've gone," she groaned. "I bet you guys had fun," she added longingly.  
  
Harry grimaced. "Yeah, if you like listening to Ron and Hermione bicker over couches.” He narrowed his eyes. "You could have come, you know. I did ask."  
  
Elle chewed on her lip. "I know," she replied quietly, turning away from Harry and heading for the refrigerator. She opened the door and bent down to peer inside. "What do you want for dinner?"  
  
Harry didn't answer right away. Was it just him, or was Elle avoiding eye contact? Again, he got the feeling that she wasn't exactly telling him something.  
  
"Dinner can wait," he said. "Elle, I think we should talk."  
  
Elle determinedly kept her eyes fixated on the inside of their fridge. "About what?" she asked cautiously.  
  
Harry sighed. "Well," he began. "For starters, why didn't you tell me about getting sick at the Order meeting?"  
  
Elle swallowed, still not looking up at him. "I just needed some air. Is that a crime?"  
  
"No," Harry said. "But Hermione sounded worried…”  
  
Elle let out a deep breath, and shook her head. "It's not a big deal," she answered softly.  
  
Harry rounded on her. "So you  _were_  sick!" he exclaimed. "Elle, why didn't you tell me? Are you okay? Do you need some potions? I don’t understand why you would keep something like this from me…”  
  
"You know what, Harry?" Elle cut in loudly, standing up and slamming the refrigerator door closed. "Why don't we finish talking about this later?"  
  
Harry stared at her, stunned by her sudden anger. "But Elle..."  
  
Elle gave him a pleading glance. "Please Harry. I'm starving, and all our food is old." She brightened up a little. "Why don't we get take out?" she suggested.  
  
Harry sighed, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was now convinced that Elle was hiding something, though he had no idea what, and no idea why. Why did she always do this to him? He was very concerned about her.

He took a deep breath, and then let it out. He felt defeated.  
  
"Alright," he said dully. "But promise me we'll finish talking about this later?"  
  
Elle nodded earnestly. "Absolutely," she said, grabbing some spare menus on the counter. "Now, what'll it be? Pizza or Chinese?"

 

* * *

 

"Well, you were right," Harry said, the second he walked into Hermione and Ron's kitchen. "Something’s up with Elle.”  
  
Hermione and Ron both looked up at him, startled. Harry realized that he hadn’t actually told them he was coming over, but they quickly recovered.   
  
Hermione pushed aside her plate of food, and stood up from the table. "What do you mean?" she asked, taking out her wand and levitating the plate over to the sink. "Did you talk to her?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied, too worried to offer to help Hermione. "Well, I tried to, at least. She keeps avoiding me, and says that it's no big deal."  
  
Ron finished eating and stood up too. "So? Maybe nothing is wrong, then. Maybe you lot are just paranoid."  
  
Hermione turned around. "Ron!"  
  
Ron continued to stand there. "What?"  
  
"You aren't even going to take your plate to the sink?"  
  
Ron smirked. “Dear,” he said sarcastically, but not unkindly. “It’s my turn to clean the whole kitchen. I was only going to wait, since Harry seems a bit distressed at the moment.”   
  
Hermione laughed, and turned back to Harry.  
  
"Come on Harry, why don't we go into the sitting room?" she suggested quickly.  
  
“Why?” Harry asked.  
  
"Because I think you need to be sitting down for this," she explained, without further comment.  
  
Harry and Ron shared confused looks, before obliging and following Hermione into the living room. The boys plopped themselves down onto the old couch, which would be donated to Harry and Elle once the new one arrived. Hermione sighed, and pulled up a chair so that she could sit directly across from them.  
  
"Where is Elle, anyway?" she asked.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Asleep. She went to bed right after dinner, but I bet it was so she wouldn't have to finish talking to me."  
  
Ron looked towards Hermione. "Why, what do you think is the matter with her?" he asked.  
  
Hermione was looking thoughtful, though she didn't answer Ron right away.

"Harry, has Elle been acting strange to you lately?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment. "Stranger than usual, you mean? Actually, now that you mention it, she has been really pale." He paused for a moment. "But she keeps saying that everything's fine, so I believed her. I trust her, she doesn’t need coddling."  
  
Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, not having a clue as to what this was all about. Hermione, however, leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath.  
  
"Harry," she started cautiously. "That’s very sweet, but Elle may need more than trust right now.” She cleared her throat. “You know when two people are in love, and they, um...express their love to each other, and sometimes these people, whether they mean to or not, create little people?"  
  
Harry was lost. "Huh?" he asked. "What are you saying?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm confused too," Ron said.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I think Elle might be pregnant."  
  
A ringing silence followed these words. Harry's stomach instantly plummeted to a spot near his feet.  
  
"What?" he managed to gasp out, white-faced. His heart was beating rapidly, and he suddenly found it very hard to breathe.  
  
Ron stared at Hermione with wide eyes. "How do you know?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys," she muttered to herself. "Listen," she said, standing up and beginning to pace the room. "Elle and Harry are married, right? We know you’ve been, um, intimate with each other, though you two should have used protection..."  
  
"We did!" Harry protested loudly, without thinking.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows. Harry swallowed.  
  
"Um, well, most of the time," he mumbled, looking down. “I mean, we’ve always  _tried_ to be responsible...”  
  
Ron shook his head. “We don’t need to know the exact details, mate,” he deadpanned.   
  
"And now Elle is getting sick all the time," Hermione continued. "Which sounds to me a lot like morning sickness.”  
  
Harry and Ron both shared bemused looks. "Morning sickness?" they repeated in unison.  
  
"It's a symptom of pregnancy."  
  
There was silence. Harry groaned, and buried his head in his hands. This couldn't be happening...  
  
"What am I going to do?" he asked, feeling both shocked, and ashamed for not knowing better. Ron tried to help by putting on a casual expression.  
  
"Lighten up," he said. "You don't know yet if she's pregnant."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Ron's right," she said. "I could be completely wrong."  
  
Harry said nothing, knowing full well that Hermione was rarely wrong.

"But what if she is?" he asked. "I'm not ready for this!”  
  
He took his hands away from his face, and saw that Hermione was glaring at him.

"What?" he asked, dismayed by the way she was looking at him.  
  
"Listen to yourself!" she argued, appalled at his behavior. "Have you even thought about how Elle might be feeling? Have you two even spoken about this possibility?”  
  
Harry didn't say anything. They hadn’t been the most careful, that was for sure. There had always been more important events going on. And judging by the fact that Elle didn't have a responsible bone in her body, he doubted she was ready either. He sighed, running a hand through his hair wearily. No wonder Elle hadn't wanted to tell him...she probably figured this was how he would react.  
  
Hermione saw him contemplating, and the look on her face softened.  
  
"Look Harry...does any of this change the way you feel about Elle?" she asked.  
  
Harry gazed at her, and shook his head. "No," he answered honestly.  
  
"And could you ever see yourself being apart from her?"  
  
"Of course not," Harry responded at once. "I love her."  
  
Hermione smiled softly. "Then go home and tell her that.  _Make_  her listen to you this time. I'm sure that no matter what happens, you two will be able to get through it."  
  
"Yeah," Ron said, trying to sound helpful. "And just remember, we're here for you both, and we'll help you."

Hermione looked toward him with a fond expression on her face, and Harry realized that Ron would handle this situation a lot more calmly than he was.   
  
Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said, in a humbled voice. He stood up. "I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I find out anything."  
  
"Good luck," they both said in unison.  
  
Harry sighed again, and without saying another word, took out the Portkey to go home.

 

* * *

 

As she found herself in the bathroom yet again, feeling sick to her stomach, Elle couldn't believe what was happening. She had woken up, and lasted just long enough to read Harry’s note telling her he went to visit Ron and Hermione, before throwing up her whole dinner.   
  
Elle groaned miserably and as quietly she could, whispered “fuck."

She sat back, resting her forehead against the cool bathroom wall and stringing her clammy fingers through her hair.  _This couldn't be happening._  
  
It wasn't like she and Harry had been planning on this. And the timing was horrible- they were supposed to travel to Voldemort's hideout, and attack his army! How could she do that if she was...no, she refused to think about the P-word. She couldn't even bring herself to say it out loud. She knew she was being childish, but still...what was she going to do?  
  
And most importantly, how would Harry react? Would he go crazy? Would he get angry with her for bringing this new burden upon him? What if he threatened to divorce her?  
  
"No, he would never do that," she whispered, trying to convince herself otherwise. Hadn't he acted concerned about her enough earlier, when he tried to talk to her?  
  
She felt horrible for not telling him what was going through her mind, but even she wasn't exactly sure, so what was the point of bothering him? She'd tell Harry eventually, but not until she could be certain that this wasn't just one big misunderstanding. Maybe she really did have the flu, and nothing more.   
  
Still, she sincerely doubted this...all the signs pointed to...and considering the fact that she was almost a month late, it was more likely that...no, she still couldn't think about the P-word. 

“Mom, what do I do?” she whispered shakily. “Dad, I need you. Please…please answer me.”

She gulped and buried her face in her hands, wishing they would miraculously appear. Elle wasn't even able to take care of a dog, much less a baby. Even the goldfish she'd had over the years had all died within a couple of days. Needless to say, she wasn’t very responsible. She was just a stupid girl who never learned her lesson, and now she was paying the price.   
  
"Hey," came a voice suddenly, from behind her.  
  
Elle gasped and whipped around, staring at Harry in shock. He was leaning against the open bathroom door, his arms crossed over his chest, peering down at her apprehensively. His hair looked even more rumpled than usual, and Elle could only imagine what she looked like.   
  
She scrambled to stand up, her hands and arms still clammy, and her legs covered with goosebumps.  
  
"How long have you been standing there?" she asked weakly, already knowing the answer.   
  
Harry didn't move. "Long enough," he replied. "Are you ready to talk now?"  
  
Elle took a deep breath, and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The next evening, Harry and Elle both sat cross-legged on their living room floor, surrounded by a bunch of muggle pregnancy tests. They were supposed to be at Hogwarts practicing attack methods, but Harry knew this was much more important, so he had told Ron and Hermione to just go on without them.  
  
After sitting down and having a long discussion together, Harry and Elle ultimately decided that they couldn't do anything more until they found out for sure. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Elle look so panicked in his life...and to be honest, he wasn't feeling too calm either.   
  
After all, the subject of children had never come up between them before; Harry had just figured that it would happen eventually, in the future...when they were both older, and their lives were less dangerous. He had definitely never thought about it happening sooner. Although, now that he'd had some time to get used to the idea, he made a point of reassuring Elle the only way he knew how- by telling her that no matter what happened, he would never dream of leaving her side.  
  
It took a lot of coaxing, but after a while, Elle finally agreed to get tested. So, that afternoon, she made Harry go out and buy a pregnancy test for her. Harry thought it would be better not to go searching in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade for things like this, so instead he went into London and purchased the tests from a convenience store.   
  
Once he had found the right aisle, he'd hadn’t known which test to buy, and quickly decided to play it safe by buying one of each. Ignoring the scandalized look from the elderly lady at the till, he quickly paid for them and rushed out of the store before anyone strolled in who would recognize him. He figured there were probably some magical spells for them to use to find out, but neither of them knew any, and neither wanted to ask anyone.  
  
So, here they were, sitting across from each other on the floor and trying to figure out which test to use. Elle had finally changed out of pajamas and was clad in jeans and a tank top, with her hair up in a lopsided bun. She was chewing on her pinky nail, and looked terribly anxious. Harry was anxious too, and still a bit overwhelmed. Never had he imagined that barely two months after they got married, they'd be sitting here doing  _this_.  
  
Sighing, Harry unthinkingly picked up one of the boxes and squinted at it.  
  
"So," he asked, breaking the silence that had sprung up between them ever since he returned home. "Which one do you want to try?"  
  
Elle frowned. "They all look the same…yet different? Why are you asking me, anyway?"  
  
"Well, you  _are_  the one who's going to use it," Harry said, cautiously. “I think if I tried, the results would be inconclusive.”   
  
Elle stifled a laugh and swallowed nervously. "Yeah, but it's not like I've done this before," she said.  
  
She picked up a smaller box that was closest to her and turned it over, carefully reading the directions on the back. She had the basic idea of what she was supposed to do, but she was stalling.   
  
"Come on, we can't drag this out any longer," Harry said, trying to be patient. "Just pick one, go into the bathroom, and get it over with."  
  
"Oh yeah, okay, easy for you to say," Elle grumbled. She put her hands on her forehead, and let out a slow, deep breath. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she mumbled.  
  
Harry was beginning to feel lightheaded. "Elle, I know you’re nervous. And I'm trying to stay calm here, but if you make me wait any longer, I think I'm going to die."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, I'm going."  
  
She stood up, and snatched up the box. After removing the stick and tossing the box back on the ground, she headed for the bathroom, and Harry got up and followed her. However, right before she went in, she whipped around and glared at him.  
  
"What?" he asked, bewildered.  
  
"I don't want you looking!" she shouted, slamming the door shut, which just missed closing on the tip of Harry's nose.   
  
Harry sighed; and this was coming from the girl who never minded peeing with the door wide open- a startling fact he had learned upon moving in with her, yet had quickly got used to. American girls were very open.   
  
Muttering under his breath, Harry paced back and forth in front of the bathroom door, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He thought of the others back at Hogwarts sword fighting, and here he was, waiting for a result that would change his life forever.  
  
He waited five minutes, then ten minutes, and then fifteen minutes. After glancing at his watch for the hundredth time, Harry looked uneasily at the closed door. He was pretty sure the results were only supposed to take a few minutes, and felt as though his heart was about to burst from anxiety.  
  
"Are you almost done?" he called out.  
  
"I peed on the stick, but it's not telling me anything!" she yelled back.  
  
"Well, maybe you're looking at it wrong!" he shouted desperately.  
  
"I am  _not_  looking at it wrong!"  
  
"Well, then come out here and let me see it!"  
  
"No! Just let me figure out a way..."  
  
"Elle! Don't mess with it, you might break it!" He could just picture her snapping the stick by accident.  
  
"I'm not going to break it!"  
  
"Elle, if you don't come out right now and show me the test, there's going to be a dead man lying in front of the bathroom!"  
  
He heard her sigh, and then the door flung open. "What are we looking for again?" she asked in a small voice, although they both already knew.   
  
"Uh, one line or two lines, I think," Harry answered, looking at her impatiently.   
  
"Here!" she said at last, holding up the test with one hand, covering her eyes with the other. "You look at it, I'm too scared."  
  
Harry blinked and took a good, long, careful look. "It looks like there’s…two lines."  
  
Elle lowered her hand from her eyes. "No…that can’t be two lines. Look, that one is dark pink, and the other line is really faint.”    
  
Harry tried quickly to remember what the instructions on the box had said. “I don’t think it matters how faint the line is, Elle.”   
  
Elle closed her eyes. "But, there’s got to be a foolproof way to know for sure!”    
  
"Stay right here, I'll go and find a digital test," Harry commanded, practically racing from the bathroom and into the living room, where all the pregnancy test boxes were scattered all over the floor. "Here!” he said, grabbing a digital test and running back to Elle. “Take this one,” he said, slightly out of breath.  
  
Elle rubbed her forehead tiredly. In any other situation, she would have laughed. "Harry, I don’t exactly have to go anymore…”

Harry summoned a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water using his wand. He handed it to Elle, along with the digital test.

“Drink,” he commanded. “And then let’s find out, once and for all.”

Elle shivered slightly at the seriousness of his tone.

“Okay,” she said, taking the glass and draining it. Harry refilled the water three times, before Elle finally snatched the second test in annoyance and slammed the bathroom door again.

Harry slumped against the wall. Minutes passed, but this time, Harry didn’t pressure her. He put a hand on the bathroom door.

“Elle, whatever it says, it’s going to be okay,” he told her, calmly but clearly.

Finally, after another few agonizing minutes, the door opened slowly. Elle was carrying the test behind her back.   
  
Harry stood up straight and faced her, his face white. "What does it say?" he asked. 

Elle swallowed. “it’s positive,” she whispered.   
  
Harry shook his head. “See, I knew that first test was right. I told you a faint line meant yes! You just don't like admitting that I'm right."  
  
"Well, can you blame me? I  _am_ usually right," Elle replied.  
  
"Are not!" he retorted.  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Are not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Are...hold on a second," Harry said slowly, as the full impact of what they had just found out hit him. He glanced down at the test, and then at Elle. "It says positive. It's a yes."  
  
Elle leaned back against the wall, her heart beating rapidly. "What if by positive they mean, like, you're positively not pregnant?" She winced. She had said the P-word.  
  
Harry gave her a look. "I don't think that's what they mean," he said quietly.  
  
Elle shook her head and closed her eyes. "Oh my God," she whispered, as if she were in a daze. "I can't believe this. I can't believe I'm…pregnant.”  
  
She opened her eyes, and her heart sank as she gazed at Harry. His expression was unreadable.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," she said softly, tears spilling from her eyes. "I know that you don't need this right now, and that neither of us can really deal with it, and I'll understand if you want me to leave, or...Harry!"  
  
Taking her completely by surprise, Harry had swept Elle right off her feet and kissed her, without even letting her finish her sentence.  
  
"I love you," he said, stroking her face with his hand. His look of anxiety had instantly turned to one of complete elation.  
  
Elle looked at him cautiously. "You're not angry?"  
  
Harry smiled gently. "Of course I'm not angry!" he told her quickly. "I think it's fantastic! And I think you're the most amazing person in the world."  
  
Elle smiled, and sat down on the couch. Her legs were shaking terribly.  
  
Harry grinned. "Elle, we're...we're going to be parents."  
  
At this, Elle's smile faded, and a look of worry set in. "But Harry...we're not ready to be parents." Her forehead creased. "How can we be? We’re only eighteen and, let's face it, not exactly experts on raising children."  
  
Harry shrugged. "We'll learn, don't worry," he assured her, sitting next to her on the couch and rubbing her shoulders. He saw her gray-tinged face, and sighed.  
  
"Listen to me," he said seriously, and Elle looked at him in tired surprise. "I'll understand if you don't want to keep it. We are way too young, we have no experience with children, this isn't exactly perfect timing...but no matter what you decide, just know that I support you," he finished, squeezing her hand.   
  
Elle took a deep breath. "I know all of that," she replied frankly. "And this may sound crazy, but besides the circumstances...I think I... I think I want to keep it," she said quietly, looking down. Then she forced herself to meet Harry's gaze. "I didn't think I wanted to at first, but now that we know...what do you think?"  
  
Harry couldn't stop himself from grinning. "I want to keep it too," he said. "I didn't think I was ready at first either. Actually, I KNOW I'm not ready. And neither are you. But we WILL learn, okay?"  
  
"I guess..." Elle replied uncertainly, picking at a loose thread on the couch. Then, "do you think it will be a boy or girl?" she asked absentmindedly.  
  
Harry hadn't thought about this yet. "It doesn't matter," he said. Then he grinned, slowly growing excited. "Though it would be fun to have a boy. We could teach him to play Quidditch."  
  
"We could teach a girl to play Quidditch too," Elle said, trying to match Harry's lighthearted tone. "And she'd probably be better at it."  
  
Harry laughed. "I doubt it," he joked.  
  
Elle went to kick him with her foot, but Harry stood and jumped out of the way.  
  
"If we  _did_  have a girl, I bet she'd look just like you," he continued.  
  
Elle smiled. "Well then, we're in big trouble if it's a boy, because that means he'll look just like you."  
  
"Hey!" Harry said. "He'd be the most handsome, popular boy at school!"  
  
"Then, he obviously won't take after you," she teased.  
  
Harry looked at her, planning on making another retort, but found himself breaking into another smile.

"Well, if we have a girl that takes after you, then I know she'll be beautiful," he said sincerely.  
  
Elle gave him a small smile, her eyes beginning to water again. She felt awful. Here she was, insulting Harry, when all he kept doing was complimenting her and trying to make her feel better. She was such a horrible wife.  
  
"You're going to be a really good dad," she said softly, more to herself than to him.  
  
Harry tilted his head. "Me?" he asked. "Look at you. You're going to be an awesome mum."  
  
Elle shook her head. She wished Harry were right. Her eyes turned glassy and tears threatened to burst out.  
  
"Stop that right now!" Harry ordered, pointing at her watering eyes.  
  
She looked up at him. "I'm just scared," she whispered. "Aren't you scared?"  
  
Harry sighed, and looked straight at her. "Yes,” he replied. “I’m terrified.”  
  
They were silent for another few moments.  
  
Harry laughed. "I remember you telling me to think of getting married as an adventure. Think of this as just a different kind of adventure. And if things go horribly wrong, it doesn't matter, because..."  
  
"We're in this together," Elle finished for him.  
  
They both smiled at each other.  
  
"Just promise me one thing," Harry said firmly. "From now on, I want you to always tell me the truth about what's going on."  
  
Elle nodded. "I promise," she said earnestly. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."  
  
"Good," Harry replied. "You should know that I don't care how bad things get. You can always come to me."  
  
"Same here," Elle agreed. She looked up at Harry, suddenly serious. “You know what this means, don’t you?”  
  
Harry faltered at the look on her face. Then it hit him. A cold shiver ran down his spine. “If Voldemort finds out…”  
  
Elle stood and walked up to Harry. He instantly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Elle brushed her hand against his cheek and looked into his eyes.  
  
“Harry,” she said softly. “I think it’s time you seriously start thinking about fulfilling that prophecy. Marriage was one thing, but this is different. If we’re going to bring an innocent life into this world, you must kill Voldemort. And you have to survive. For me.” She swallowed, and her eyes flickered down to the test she was still holding. “For us.”  
  
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. “I will,” he promised, as she set the test aside. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”  
  
Just then, there was a loud noise coming from the fireplace. Harry and Elle both jumped apart. Harry drew his wand and Elle raised her hands, which were now glowing a fierce green. They were just about to start shouting curses, only to find that Ron and Hermione had Floo'd into their living room.

Harry stared at them in shock.  
  
"What are you two doing here?" he asked. "I thought you were supposed to be at Hogwarts!"  
  
"We left early," Hermione said. "We couldn't help it, the whole time we were thinking of you two, and what was going on..." she trailed off, staring at the pile of boxes lying on the floor. "Are those pregnancy tests?”  
  
Harry and Elle didn't say anything yet. They were both looking at each other, and Elle could feel her face growing red.  
  
"Elle!" Hermione exclaimed, running up to her and grabbing onto her arms. "Are you?"  
  
Elle, her face still extremely red, looked determinedly at the floor, and nodded.  
  
Hermione looked like she didn’t know what to say, but then smiled. "For Merlin’s sake, I knew it!" she said ruefully, throwing her arms tightly around Elle.  
  
"Hermione," Elle warned, through gritted teeth.  
  
Hermione quickly let go. "Sorry," she said, now throwing her arms around Harry. "I’m really happy for you two, I am.”    
  
"Congratulations," Ron said to them, looking a little dumbfounded. He gave Harry a look. "I guess that didn't take long, did it?"  
  
Harry hesitated. "Well, we weren't planning on it..."  
  
"But you are pleased, aren't you?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry with narrowed eyes. Elle looked at him uneasily as well.  
  
Harry gave Elle's hand a comforting squeeze, and grinned.

"I couldn't be happier," he said, hoping to vanquish Elle's doubts. "That is, after I got over the feeling of wanting to throw myself over a cliff,” he joked.   
  
Ron and Hermione both laughed.

"Wow, I still can't believe it," Ron said, grinning and shaking his head. "My two best friends are going to be parents."  
  
Hermione smiled. "This is going to be so exciting!" she breathed. She turned to Elle. “You’re going to need tons of stuff…things like clothes, food, and toys...not to mention diapers, and a crib..."  
  
Elle went pale again, and turned to Harry. "That's going to cost money," she said flatly.  
  
Harry could see where this was going. "That's okay," he said quickly. "I'll get a job, and we still have leftover savings from our parents. We'll be able to afford it."  
  
Elle's face fell. "But I thought we were going to begin our Auror training," she said slowly. "Obviously, I can't do that anymore, but you should still go for it."  
  
Harry shook his head. "Auror training can wait," he said. "I want us to become Aurors together."  
  
"And how exactly are we going to do that, and try to take care of a baby at the same time?" Elle asked arguably.  
  
"Uh, guys," Ron said, cutting in. "One step at a time, okay? I don't think you two need to be worrying about that just yet."  
  
Hermione nodded. "That's right. I think the first thing you should do is talk to Dumbledore."  
  
Elle's eyes widened. "No way! Why do we have to talk to him?"  
  
Harry nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. He might be able to help us hide this from Voldemort, or his spies.” He turned to Elle. “Protecting our child just became our first priority.”   
  
Elle sighed. He was right. Everything had changed now.

"Fine, we'll talk to Dumbledore next Saturday, at the Order meeting," she said simply. “And I’ll- I’ll make an appointment at St. Mungo’s.”  
  
This whole situation almost felt like some sort of fantasy...a Healer's confirmation would make it seem so real, so final, so...absolute. And now, Hermione's words introduced new fears. What if something turned out wrong? What if they ran out of money, and were forced to sell their house and move out into the street? What if Voldemort found out? What if...  
  
"What if this whole baby thing doesn't work out?" Elle asked, to no one in particular. She was looking panicked again. "I don't know the first thing about taking care of a child! I've never even baby-sat before!"  
  
"Hey, nobody said it was going to be easy," Ron said.  
  
"We'll help you out the best we can," Hermione promised. "And you'll be a great mother, don't worry."  
  
Elle grinned at them, her eyes growing watery. Harry took her hand.  
  
"See?" he said softly. "We're all here for you. You're not alone."  
  
Elle sniffled, and wiped the tears away from her eyes. "Thanks, you guys," she sobbed, throwing her arms around each of them.  
  
They all laughed, and soon the four of them were enveloped into a huge group hug that not even the evil forces of Voldemort's army could tear apart.

* * *

Deep down in the dark fortresses of Voldemort's hideout, more than twenty or so Death Eaters, dressed in black cloaks and disguised in masks, stood together in a ring surrounding a large empty space in the middle. Neither of them said a word, or changed their positions- they appeared to be waiting for something.  
  
Finally, sinister shadows sprang up on the cold stone floor, forewarning the dastardly fate about to enter the room. And sure enough, moments later, Voldemort appeared, his wand held out by his long, bony fingers; he was levitating a large, bubbling cauldron.  
  
The echoes of his footsteps came to a halt, and he lowered the cauldron into the center of the circle. It was filled to the brim with a sickly, simmering yellow liquid, and gave off a deathly, rotten scent.  
  
"This is it," Voldemort told his Death Eaters, as they gazed at the contents of the cauldron. "Once we have consumed this potion, all of the girl’s powers will be drained from her, and will become ours."  
  
"Now," he said. "It is time for the blood offerings."  
  
Wordlessly, and one by one, each of the Death Eaters stepped up to the potion and unsheathed a sword from deep inside their robes. Holding it in front of them, they each waited a steady moment before pressing the sharp blade into the flesh of their hands, slicing through the skin. Then, they dipped the tip of the bloodstained swords into the potion. The yellow liquid immediately hissed, and bubbled so ferociously that it threatened to spill over the sides of the cauldron.  
  
Damien stepped up to the potion last. Once his blood had been added, the potion gave one last sputter, before turning a deep shade of crimson.  
  
Voldemort nodded in approval. "Excellent," he observed quietly. "When the potion turns green, then we will know it's time for the final ingredient." He nodded at Damien. "That is where you come in," he told him. "When the time comes, you will be ready. Either that, or you will fail. In more ways than one."  
  
Damien nodded. He bowed deeply, and with a swish of his cloak, turned to leave the room.  
  



	38. Not Too Late to Change

She hated the bathroom. She hated everything about that small space, right down to the smudged cracks in between the square white tiles, and the flickering chrome light that shined overhead.   
  
Ever since finding out that she was pregnant, the bathroom had been a place she found herself spending a great deal of time in. She now wished desperately for the life she had before; the life where she could walk into a room and not worry whether the smell in there would send her fleeing in the other direction.  
  
Harry scrunched up his face as he leaned over her, rubbing her back as she continued to be sick.

"Very nice," he observed, amazed and grossed out at the same time. "I'm impressed. I see you had macaroni and cheese for lunch.”  
  
Elle groaned. "You're disgusting," she managed to get out, before another wave of nausea hit her.  
  
Harry waited patiently, and held her hair back for her until she was done. Then, coughing and turning around to face him, she said, "I don't think I can take much more of this. How long does morning sickness last?"  
  
Harry shrugged and turned his neck to look down at the open book beside them- a book Hermione helpfully supplied, which told them what to expect during pregnancy. Elle had taken to reading it religiously, but it seemed she had been a little too eager to skip to the end.   
  
Even though Elle felt completely miserable now, she was still grateful for the way Harry was handling all this. She honestly thought that he was going to be all paranoid and weird, but instead he did all that he possibly could to make her feel better, and constantly told her that everything was going to be alright.  
  
"It says here that morning sickness usually lasts for the first couple of months," he said, flipping through some pages and peering down at them.  
  
Elle sighed. "Fantastic," she replied dryly.  
  
She flushed the toilet and Harry stood, holding out a hand to help her up. Elle took it and jumped to her feet.  
  
"This sucks, you know," she informed him.  
  
Harry smiled sympathetically. "I know. But I must say, you're handling it like a pro.”  
  
She smiled back at him. "Thank you," she whispered quietly.  
  
Harry tilted his head. "For what?" he asked, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Complimenting your puking skills?"  
  
Elle's eyes glistened. "That, and for being so helpful, and understanding..."  
  
Harry laughed. "This book also says you're going to be very emotional," he teased. "But don't worry, I'll get used to it."  
  
Elle put her hands over her face in embarrassment. "Oh no, I don't want to be emotional anymore!" she exclaimed. “That book was written by a man, wasn’t it?”   
  
Harry frowned and glanced at the cover. “Funnily enough, it was,” he said wryly. "But I wouldn't stress about it too much. You'll be back to teasing and making fun of me in no time."  
  
Elle smiled earnestly. "I'll refrain, I promise."  
  
Harry only kept on grinning, knowing full well it wasn't a promise she intended to keep.   
  
This whole past week he had been so exhilarated, and nothing anyone said or did could take away his happiness. He still couldn't believe that after all these years of not having a family, he was now going to be a dad. He didn't even care about his age anymore; as far as he was concerned, he was going to make sure that their child would be raised by two wonderful, loving parents. He planned to give him or her a life that he had never had.  
  
The two of them had gone to St. Mungo's that morning so Elle could get checked out, and make sure there weren't any problems. He remembered how anxious Elle had been, holding tightly to his hand as they stood in the small, magical maternity ward.   
  
“We took a test, and it came out positive, but I just wanted to make sure…” she started explaining to the Healer, as she laid down for the ultrasound. Harry gripped her hand tighter, and suddenly they both fell silent.   
  
The Healer had whispered an incantation and waved her wand over Elle’s stomach. A projection appeared next to them, blurry at first, but then began to clear. And there it was.   
  
What they saw and heard on the Healer’s projection was an image of a perfect, six-week old lima bean and a strong, steady heartbeat. Harry and Elle burst into grins, and Elle’s anxiety eased. The Healer looked at them and smiled.   
  
“Yes, the test was correct,” she simply stated. “Congratulations. That’s a healthy baby you have there.”  
  
Until that moment, everything had seemed like a dream. Now it was real.  
  
Elle went to the dresser and began to brush her hair. Harry sat down on the bed, watching her.  
  
“Everything's okay now, right? Do you feel better? No more nausea?”  
  
Elle nodded. "Everything's okay.” She sighed, popping a breath mint into her mouth. “It’s just, seeing the baby this morning for the first time made me nervous.”  
  
Harry laughed. “Nervous? I thought it was amazing.”   
  
Elle bit her lip. “It was. But I’m still terrified. Harry, I really don’t want Voldemort to find out about this.”   
  
Harry's laughter died away, and instead was replaced by a cold shudder.   
  
He lay down on his back, staring up at the cracked ceiling and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I think we should go to Hogwarts a little earlier," he murmured, suddenly set on begging Dumbledore to keep Elle and the baby safe. "This way we can talk to Dumbledore in private, and just let him know what's going on. He might have some suggestions for us."  
  
Elle cringed. She still thought it was embarrassing going to Dumbledore, where they would surely be reprimanded for being so irresponsible, but she agreed that it had to be done for their safety.  
  
"Okay," she sighed. "I'm almost ready."  
  
No more than fifteen minutes later, the two of them were strolling through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts, heading towards Dumbledore's office. It felt weird sneaking about this late at night within the confinements of their old school, especially considering that it would cause great speculation if they were caught by an unsuspecting student that happened to be wandering the hallways after hours...or worse, by Filch.   
  
Harry began to quicken his pace, and in doing so, he proceeded to walk straight into a winding pillar stationed next to a portrait of an old, snoring wizard.  
  
"Ouch!" he let out loudly, which was followed by a string of curses.  
  
Elle gave him a sharp glance. "What are you trying to do, get us caught?" she asked, determinedly keeping a straight face.  
  
Harry grimaced. "No," he answered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking at the ground as he walked.  
  
Elle sighed slightly, shaking her head. "The future father of my child, ladies and gentlemen,” she remarked dryly. “Are you okay?" she then asked, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling.  
  
He gave her an exasperated look. "I don't know Elle, would you be okay if you just broke a toe?”

She rolled her eyes. “Now we know why it’s the woman’s job to have the babies.”  
  
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but his words were drowned by another commanding voice, which said, "What in Merlin’s name are you two doing here?"  
  
They both whipped around, eye to eye with McGonagall, who was peering down at them authoritatively. She crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"The meeting doesn't start for another hour," she told them, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"We know," Harry told her. "We just wondered if we could maybe speak with Professor Dumbledore before everyone else arrived?”  
  
McGonagall stared at him. "What could you possibly have to say to him now that couldn't wait until later?"  
  
Elle swallowed nervously and looked to Harry for an answer. Harry sighed.  
  
“It's important," he told his former Transfiguration teacher.  
  
"Very well," she responded. "You two may come with me, I was just on my way to speak with him myself. And do try to keep your voices down."  
  
The two of them nodded, and wordlessly followed McGonagall through the corridors and up a few staircases, before coming to a halt outside the sealed entranceway. McGonagall gave the stone gargoyles the password, and they sprang aside to let the three of them pass onto the moving staircase. Once they reached the top, they stepped off, and McGonagall tapped sharply on the wooden oak door. Harry could hear voices inside, and began to feel apprehensive. He hadn't expected anyone else to be there when they told Dumbledore the news.  
  
"Come in," came a voice from inside. McGonagall pushed the door open and beckoned the two of them to come with her.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter are here to see you," she informed Dumbledore at once.  
  
Dumbledore looked up from a piece of parchment he had been gazing at upon his desk, and gave them a warm, tired smile.  
  
"Hello," he said brightly, though with a note of surprise. "Please, have a seat."  
  
Harry and Elle shared a quick look, before gingerly taking seats in the chintz armchairs that were always placed appropriately at the foot of Dumbledore's desk. After quickly looking around, Harry noticed that Lupin was there too, and he, like Dumbledore, was gazing upon the sheet of parchment. At a second glance, Harry saw what appeared to be a calendar scrawled upon the page in black ink, with a few dates circled. Lupin saw him staring and quickly rolled up the sheet. He gave them a smile.  
  
"Hello Harry," he said, nodding towards them. "Elle."  
  
Harry returned the smile. "Hi Professor," he said. Elle merely smiled slightly and tilted her head towards him, as if she had lost all desire for speech.  
  
“What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Harry fidgeted awkwardly in his seat. "Well, Elle and I, er, have something we need to tell you," he started. "Which is why we're here. We need to know what we should do about it...for our safety."  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, and shared a look with McGonagall and Lupin.   
  
"What is it you need to tell me?" he asked calmly, though with a hint in his voice that he already knew what Harry was about to say.   
  
Harry hesitated and looked to Elle, but she was looking down into her lap. Obviously, she was leaving the explaining up to Harry.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Well...uh...the thing is, Elle and I are, uh...sort of...well, she's...I mean...um..."  
  
"I'm pregnant," Elle blurted out unexpectedly, her face quickly growing red.  
  
Dumbledore and Lupin's eyebrows both shot up even farther, and McGonagall gasped, clasping her hand to her mouth in a very uncharacteristic motion. Harry gritted his teeth and shot Elle a look.  
  
"I was going to tell them in a much less...tactless way," he muttered, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze just yet.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Well, you wouldn't spit it out, so what was I supposed to do?”  
  
"I know, and I was just going to say it too before you went and blurted it out!"  
  
"So what if I did? It's not like they care..."  
  
"Oh yes, you two are definitely ready for parenthood," Lupin said loudly and sarcastically, interrupting their argument.  
  
They both stopped jabbering at once, and Elle's gaze quickly dropped downwards again. She looked ashamed. Harry, however, was staring up at Dumbledore, who was wearing an unreadable expression.  
  
"Well," he said slowly, a small grin beginning to form on his face. "You two waste no time, do you?"  
  
Harry swallowed, and he could feel his own face burning. "Please Sir, it's not like we were expecting this...it just sort of happened..."  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand. "It's none of my business.” Then, miraculously, he beamed at them. "Congratulations. I can’t say I’m surprised.”   
  
"WHAT?" McGonagall raged at Dumbledore, her arms waving about frantically. "First marriage, and now a baby? How do you two plan on raising a child? And I warned you!" she yelled, pointing a finger right under Harry's nose. "I told you no babies until you were ready. This is absolutely absurd!"  
  
Elle buried her face in her hands, absolutely mortified at McGonagall's words. Harry could hear her whisper "oh my God" under her breath, as if she were praying that the floor would swallow her up and allow her to disappear.  
  
Lupin quietly reached out and touched McGonagall gently on the shoulder.  
  
"Calm down, please," he said slowly. "Let's discuss this rationally."  
  
"Rationally? There is nothing rational about this! These two are teenagers, not parents, and they are not ready for this!" Minerva shouted, her nostrils flaring like crazy. Harry wouldn't be surprised if they burst into flames right there under her nose.  
  
"Who says we're not ready?" Harry piped up defiantly, standing and matching McGonagall's incensed gaze with determination in his eyes.  
  
McGonagall narrowed her own eyes. "Harry, you are an intelligent boy," she said sternly. "And Elle, you are an extremely bright girl."  
  
Elle shifted a little, but still didn't look up.  
  
"But that does not change the fact that you both are still way too young. How can you honestly stand there and tell me you are ready for the demands and responsibilities of parenthood, when you are still children yourselves?"  
  
Harry didn't sit down. "Please Sir," he stated as calmly as possible, addressing Dumbledore. "I know we're both young, but I know that we can handle this. Coming to you for help proves that, doesn’t it?"  
  
McGonagall sighed, and shook her head. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from the two people I caught trying to hex each other in the middle of the Great Hall."  
  
Lupin grinned. "That was two years ago," he said lightly. "A lot has changed since then."  
  
"That's right," Elle said quietly, and they all looked towards her in surprise. She took a deep breath, and slowly raised her eyes to look up at McGonagall. "I'm not sixteen years old anymore, Professor," she said softly. "I am not going to mess this up.”  
  
McGonagall looked at her. "I know you're not," she responded, a bit more gently. "And I know that the both of you have potential to become good parents. I don't mean to lecture, but you need somebody to let you know exactly what you're getting yourselves into. I'm only trying to look out for you."  
  
Harry suddenly felt guilty. He didn't realize McGonagall cared about them that much, and he had totally ignored her advice.  
  
"We know," he said genuinely. "That's the reason why we came here tonight."  
  
"Fine," McGonagall said resentfully. "If you two are sure that you can make this work, then I'm happy for you." And then, to Harry's utter amazement, she broke into a small smile. "Congratulations," she told them. "But you just got in way over your heads."  
  
Elle sighed. "We know," she said. She looked at McGonagall uncertainly. "But thanks," she added, in a voice just above a whisper.  
  
Dumbledore's expression suddenly turned serious again. "I don't mean to bring a damper on this joyous occasion, but I take it that you two do realize what this means?"  
  
Harry let out a deep breath. He knew this was coming.

"Yes," he said emphatically. "Voldemort can't find out about this."  
  
Dumbledore sighed, and shook his head. "You’re quite right. This is much different than a wedding announcement. The child of Harry Potter would interest him greatly. How many people know so far?"  
  
"Only Ron and Hermione," Harry said.  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well," he replied. "You know..." he began, but then hesitated.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, creasing his forehead.  
  
He cleared his throat. "I think it would be best if nobody else knew about this," he said. "At least, not yet. The longer it is kept quiet, the safer you will be."  
  
Elle looked up. "You mean we can't tell anybody?" she asked disbelievingly. "Not even people who don't live here?"  
  
Harry looked at her. He knew she was thinking of Ally and Brian.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not," he told her gently. "We can't afford for the press to find out, the news would be everywhere. And trust me, you two don't need that kind of publicity."  
  
"But what if we just tell everyone to keep it a secret?" she asked weakly.  
  
Dumbledore gave her a small smile. “It's too big of a risk, even if the news happened to slip out by accident and somebody overheard."  
  
Elle frowned. "But won't people be able to tell?" she asked in a low voice.  
  
"I believe Madam Pomfrey has a few concealment potions that work extremely well," he told them simply. "They're mostly used for those who want to cover up gruesome injuries, but I'm sure they'll work just as well for your purpose. I will see to it that Madam Pomfrey visits with you before you leave.”  
  
Elle nodded slowly, looking down again.  
  
Lupin chuckled to himself a bit. "Oh, how I am looking forward to seeing this," he muttered, shaking his head.  
  
"Aren't we all," Dumbledore said quietly in response.  
  
Harry and Elle shared a look, and Elle heaved a gigantic sigh to break the silence.  
  
"Well," she said, in a low voice. "This has been sufficiently awkward."  
  
"Come, let's get down to the Room of Requirement, shall we?" Dumbledore suggested, standing up. 

“Wait!” McGonagall said, putting a hand out to stop Elle. “I don’t think she should be around swords, Dumbledore.”

Elle looked toward McGonagall with a bewildered expression.

“What?” she asked incredulously. “No, I’m fine! I need to learn how to protect myself, right? I promise to be careful.”

Harry frowned. McGonagall had a point.

“Maybe you should skip this meeting,” he told Elle, suddenly nervous. 

“If I skip the meeting, people will ask questions,” Elle replied, gathering her hair up in a tight ponytail. “Right?” she asked Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore frowned, and shared a look with Lupin. Lupin sighed.

“It is early days yet, Minerva,” he said calmly. “We’ll let her fight tonight, and then take it one meeting at a time.”

Elle nodded in satisfaction. McGonagall and Harry still looked uncertain, but didn’t argue.   
  
The five of them departed the office, exiting through the revolving staircase and making their way down to the corridor where the mysterious room was located. As they entered, Harry saw that most of the others were already assembled in the center. They shot curious looks towards them as they came through the door with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Lupin, instead of arriving by Portkey. Ron and Hermione gave them questioning stares, but Harry just shook his head and mouthed "Later."  
  
Dumbledore separated himself from them to release the swords, and everybody else began to pair off as usual. Harry could still see people shooting odd looks in their direction, and whispering to their partners. As Elle began to go over to Hermione, Harry quickly grabbed her arm and twirled her back around to face him.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said, glancing quickly around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "Just, uh...you heard McGonagall. Please be careful, okay?"  
  
Elle gave him a small smile. "Don't worry," she replied quietly. "I'm always careful."  
  
Harry sighed. "If you say so," he said reluctantly, letting go of her arm. He was pretty sure sword fighting wasn’t a recommended activity for those expecting.   
  
He walked over to Ron, and the whole Order shouted in unison, "Accio Sword!"  
  
"Did you two talk to Dumbledore?" Ron asked, as they both reached up and caught their swords at the same time.  
  
"Yeah, it went a lot better then I expected," Harry said, as everyone got into their positions. "As long as no one finds out about the baby, we should be safe."  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. "You really think you're going to be able to keep this a secret for long?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "We can try, can't we? And anyway, it's not like we have a choice. There's too big a risk of the news leaking out." He grew serious. “Voldemort can never discover our secret.”  
  
Dumbledore gave the signal for them to begin fighting, and Ron's Shadow Sword immediately became invisible as he raised it to Harry's Flame- though Harry could still feel the clanking of the razor sharp edges as they clattered against one another, causing fiery red sparks to emit from the end of Harry's sword and shoot out towards Ron.  
  
"Whoa," Ron said, carefully jumping aside to avoid the shower of sparks. "You might want to watch where you aim that thing."  
  
"Sorry," Harry said, hurriedly lowering his sword. The truth was, he was finding it very hard to concentrate tonight. He was too worried about Elle.  
  
"It's okay," said Ron, lowering his sword as well. Once it was stationary in Ron's grip, the blade became visible once more. "Want to wait a couple of minutes and then start again?"  
  
"Sure," Harry replied, craning his neck to see how Elle was doing. Hopefully Hermione was going a little easy on her...

 

* * *

 

"Stop!" Elle said after only a few minutes of fighting, lowering her small dagger to her side.  
  
Hermione relaxed from her position against the wall, where Elle had her cornered.

"Something wrong?" she asked, a concerned look on her face.  
  
"Yeah," Elle said, narrowing her eyes. "You're going easy on me, aren't you?"  
  
"Why would you say that?" Hermione asked innocently, suddenly becoming extremely interested in picking a piece of lint off her sleeve.  
  
Elle sighed. "Come on Hermione, usually I'm the one who's always getting cornered into a wall. I've never been able to do it to you before."  
  
Hermione had a guilty look in her eyes. "I just figured since you might not be up to full fighting standards right now, that I'd give you a little break..."  
  
Elle shook her head slowly. "I can still sword fight. The last thing I need right now is special treatment, especially from my best friend."  
  
Hermione gave her a look, though gradually nodded in agreement. "All right," she said. "I promise I'll do my very best from now on."  
  
Elle gave her a little smile to show that she wasn't mad. "Good," she said, raising her dagger once more. "Prove it."  
  
Steadily raising her Eagle Talon, she thrust it towards Elle with incredible force, and as Elle made to swing back at her, Hermione ducked out of the way, turning quickly around to maneuver her sword so that it appeared to be coming straight for Elle's neck. Elle quickly blocked her, but Hermione's stance was too strong; within seconds, Hermione had advanced on her, and didn't stop until Elle's back was thrown against the wall with Hermione's sword brought to the tip of her neck, leaving no room for escape.   
  
Elle gave Hermione a weak smile.  
  
"Now that's more like it," she said approvingly.  
  
Hermione lowered her sword, releasing Elle, who immediately began massaging her throat.   
  
"Do you think that was good enough?" Hermione asked.  
  
Elle raised her eyebrows. "Uh, yeah,” she said. “Those Death Eaters are toast.”  
  
"Attention, everyone!" Dumbledore shouted over the clanging and clattering swords. He clapped his hands, and everybody lowered his or her sword, turning their attention towards him.  
  
"We are going to try something a little different this time," he explained. "By now you have been practicing with the same partner for quite some time. Though you have all improved greatly, much of that is because you have now gotten used to your partner's fighting style, which has made it easier for you to take risks and challenge them. However, not every person fights the same way; just being paired with someone of a different height or weight can make a huge difference. And I guarantee you that Voldemort's Death Eaters will be nothing like what you're used to. So, what I'm going to have you do is switch partners. This way, you can all be better prepared when it comes time to fight another who is  _not_ one of your friends, and who will be doing everything they can to confuse and hurt you."  
  
He gave them a small, but encouraging grin. "I'll give you a few moments to choose your new partners," he added, as he saw some of their panicked looks.  
  
Elle and Hermione both shrugged, before turning around and heading in Ron and Harry's direction. But before Harry and Elle could get into positions across from each other, Neville came running towards Harry with a pleading look on his face.  
  
"Please be partners with me!" he cried nervously. "I don't want to be left alone again- everybody else thinks I'm going to slice their heads off if I'm paired with them!"  
  
Harry looked hesitantly between Neville and Elle. "Sorry Neville, but Elle and I are already..."  
  
"It's okay," Elle said quickly. "You two can be partners, I'll just find somebody else."  
  
"Are you sure?" Harry instantly asked, looking a little worried.  
  
Elle tried to look confident. "Of course," she said, straightening up. "I'll be fine. It’s probably for the best, you would never point a sword at me anyway.”  
  
"Thanks," Neville told her gratefully, before turning around to face Harry.  
  
She was right. Harry gave her a little shrug, and Elle sighed, surveying the room to see whom else didn't have a partner yet.  
  
"Hey Lavender!" she called out, quickening her pace to catch up with her. But her face fell as she saw the look on Lavender's face.  
  
"Sorry Elle," Lavender said sincerely. "But Ginny and I are already paired up."  
  
Elle tried quickly to hide her shock. "Oh," she said quietly, slowly coming to a halt. "Oh," she repeated. "That’s totally fine! I'll just find somebody else."  
  
"I'm sorry," Lavender said again. "I thought you'd be partners with Harry."  
  
Elle shook her head. "He's paired up with Neville," she told her heavily. "Don't worry about it, I'll talk to you later."  
  
As she turned away from Lavender and Ginny, she began to feel embarrassed. She had never, ever, been left without a partner before. Now whom was she going to pair up with? She scanned the room, her heart dropping to the floor. This was so humiliating.   
  
Everybody was paired up with someone different already, and there were definitely some odd couples; Hermione was with Ron, Luna was with Cho, Dean was paired with Draco (neither looked pleased about this), Seamus was with Michael Corner, George was with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Fred was with Ernie Macmillan, Padma Patil was with Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones had requested to be paired with Professor Lupin, since she seemed to be a little apprehensive at the thought of practicing with somebody else other than Hannah, her usual partner (Elle couldn’t help but inwardly roll her eyes at this). 

Which left the one person she had been dreading she'd be stuck with...Parvati Patil.  
  
Stifling a groan, Elle walked up to her with her arms crossed over her chest. Parvati, in turn, shot her a look of deepest loathing, which greatly surprised Elle. She knew Parvati hated her, but...she hadn't realized she'd hated her  _that_  much.  
  
Both girls glaring at one another, they silently raised their swords and waited for Dumbledore's signal. Quickly getting the idea that this was not going to go over well, Elle braced herself and got ready to show Parvati just what her "tiny little sword" could do.

 

* * *

 

After about ten minutes or so of fighting with him, Harry decided that Neville was not a horrible partner. Even though his sword was nowhere near as powerful as the Flame, Neville still managed to hold his own, and even succeeded in catching Harry off guard a couple of times with rare, effective moves.

Harry decided that Neville's problem was just his lack of confidence- he didn't see why people avoided him. Sure, Neville was capable of doing serious damage without knowing it, but all he needed was for someone to give him a chance, and not automatically expect him to fail. Harry concluded that if Neville were fighting with anyone else but him, he would turn out to be a pretty good match.  
  
Just as Harry began to give Neville pointers on how to improve, Ron nudged his shoulder and Harry turned around in a flash.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, staring at Ron and Hermione.  
  
"We've got trouble," Ron said flatly.  
  
"Why, what's the matter with you guys?" he asked, confused.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Not with us," he told him. "Look over there."  
  
Harry gave Neville an apologetic shrug and looked towards where Ron was now pointing. Once he finally understood what he was talking about, he dropped his sword to his side and groaned.  
  
"Not again, Elle," he muttered under his breath. "Why did she have to go and be partners with Parvati, why?"  
  
"You better go over there and see what happened," Hermione said, frowning in concern. "It looks like they're about to get into a huge fight."  
  
Ron looked alarmed. "Elle's not stupid enough to get into a fight now!”  
  
"Ron, this is Elle we're talking about," Harry said in exasperation.  
  
Ron thought for a second. "Right, never mind," he said after a moment.  
  
Hermione now looked extremely concerned. "But, doesn't she realize something like this could be dangerous for her?”  
  
"Why don't you three come with me?" Harry said quickly, before Hermione could say anything that Neville would overhear. "If I know Elle, once she gets angry it's going to be hard to stop her from doing something stupid."  
  
With a sigh, the three of them rushed over to where Parvati and Elle were facing each other, their swords sprawled on the floor, forgotten. Harry cautiously stepped closer, only to hear them both shouting at the top of their lungs.  
  
"How dare you!" Elle was yelling to Parvati. "You could have  _killed_  me!"  
  
Parvati let out a laugh. "Kill you? With that tiny sword in the way?"  
  
Elle narrowed her eyes. "Coming from the girl with the old-fashioned piece of metal?”  
  
Parvati put her hands on her hips. "You're just jealous," she remarked.  
  
Harry looked towards Ron and Hermione, as a bunch of other pairs halted their sword fighting and gathered around to watch the entertainment. 

"Does this sound familiar to you?" he asked them, wondering if he had gone mad.  
  
"Very familiar," Lavender observed, coming up behind them and crossing her arms over her chest. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron said, laughing. "Of you two rolling around on the ground during a Quidditch match, trying to kill each other."  
  
Harry wore a tense look. "Let's hope history doesn’t repeat itself."  
  
Meanwhile, Elle had raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Jealous?" she exclaimed. "Of you?" She paused, and surprisingly, gave a little grin. "You are, after all, just a spoiled brat who gets whatever she wants."  
  
Parvati was taken aback, but when she spoke her voice was shaking with anger. "What are you going to do about it this time, Elle?" she asked nastily. "Punch me?"  
  
By now, the lack of interest in practicing had generated the adults' attention, and Elle could see McGonagall and Lupin eyeing her closely. Elle flexed her hands quickly, and tightened them into fists, but then...  
  
"Elle, NO!" Harry shouted, as he and Ron both sprang forward and seized her arms, trying to keep her from hitting Parvati. Elle struggled to break free from their grasp, but they were holding on way too tightly.  
  
"Just let me handle this alone," she said, through gritted teeth.  
  
Harry didn't let go. "I'm not letting you do something stupid," he hissed firmly into her ear. "Not at a time like this."  
  
"She threatened me, did you know that?" Elle hissed back, her eyes glowing with fury. "Back at Grimmauld Place, she threatened to..."  
  
"Just forget about your temper right now!" Harry commanded, interrupting her.   
  
"What is going on here?" McGonagall said sharply, coming to stand in the middle of the two girls. Harry could see a weary look on her face, and he knew what she was thinking... _here we go again, another fight, from the one girl who should know better._  
  
Parvati was staring at Elle with an unreadable expression as she continued to resist Ron and Harry with great effort, and neither of them answered McGonagall's question.  
  
Finally, after a few moments, Elle relaxed and took a deep breath. Harry nodded at Ron, and the two of them let go.  
  
Elle looked up at Harry with wide, anxious eyes.

"I know what I'm doing," she whispered to him. "Just, please...let me continue this on my own."  
  
Harry sighed, and reluctantly took a step back. "You better know what you're doing," he warned her.  
  
"Trust me," Elle said, though she was no longer looking at him. Her eyes were on Parvati. Standing up straight, she walked steadily towards the girl until she was right under her nose. Parvati flinched, and took a step backwards.  
  
"No," Elle said. “I'm not going to punch you, because I know you're about to do the same thing to me. And I'm not going to stoop to your level."  
  
Parvati blinked. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"  
  
Elle shook her head. "It's not too late to change," she replied, a little softer than before, and with a hint of pink on her cheeks. "Everybody's got to grow up sometime. Even you." She looked McGonagall in the eyes. "And even me."  
  
McGonagall gazed at Elle in surprise, and Harry could've sworn a suggestion of a smile flickered over the woman's disapproving mouth.  
  
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, that's just another way of saying you've gone soft."  
  
Elle tilted her head. "What?" she asked, confused.  
  
"Admit it," Parvati told her, now smirking. "You've finally realized you're not as tough as you thought you were. You're just scared. I can tell from the way you’ve been holding back. You’re terrified of something.”  
  
Elle stared at Parvati, every thread of emotion gone from her face.  
  
"You're wrong, Parvati," she said quietly. "It’s not fear- it’s determination. Right now, I've got bigger things happening in my life, things that don't require me to stand here and listen to you." Her sword zoomed into her hand from the ground with one steady motion.  
  
"This argument is over," she said, before handing the sword over to McGonagall and walking out of the room.  
  
McGonagall sighed. Hermione was standing next to Harry, shaking her head.  
  
"Why does she always have to make a dramatic exit?" she whispered exasperatedly.  
  
McGonagall shared a glance with Dumbledore, before clapping her hands sharply to grab everyone's attention.

"All right!" she boomed in an orderly voice. "Show's over! Let's make the rest of our time here useful and continue practicing, shall we? Miss Bones, why don't you partner up with Miss Patil for now?"  
  
"Certainly, Professor," Susan said quickly, stepping away from Lupin and walking cautiously toward Parvati, who still looked to be in a towering temper. Harry turned his head and looked towards the door, but Elle was already out of sight.  
  
In fact, Elle was standing right outside the Room of Requirement, alone in the empty corridor with her back pressed against the wall and her unkempt hair fighting its way out of her ponytail. Pulling the band out so that her hair fell and covered her like a curtain, she slid down the length of the wall and sat Indian-style on the floor, burying her face in her hands.  
  
She didn't know why she was feeling so upset; she should be happy. After all, she hadn’t resorted to fighting with Parvati! She guessed everything that had occurred over the past week was finally hitting her. Parvati was right, she was scared.   
  
 _What was she doing?_  Here she and Harry were, talking about raising a child, when they were in the middle of practicing how to fight and kill with swords! What kind of world was this child going to come in to, with people learning how to murder each other left and right? And, exactly how were they supposed to keep this a secret? What if Parvati found out?  
  
She didn't know how long she sat on the floor, mulling all this over. She supposed it didn't matter, because Harry came out of the room soon enough, and tapped her on the shoulder, startling her out of her reverie. Professor Lupin was with him.  
  
Slowly, Elle rubbed her palms over the tops of her jeans and stood up, suddenly feeling too exhausted to be embarrassed.  
  
"Don't worry, everybody's gone," Harry told her comfortingly. "They all took their Portkeys back home...including Parvati."  
  
Elle looked at both of them apologetically. "I'm sorry," she told them, and she really was. "It was inappropriate for me to shout at Parvati during the middle of a meeting.”  
  
Lupin smiled at her. "On the contrary, I found it necessary to praise you for not resorting to violence. It would've been extremely unwise, not to mention dangerous." He gave a tiny laugh. "Maybe somebody is finally growing up and learning to a be bit responsible after all?"  
  
Elle nodded. "More than you know," she said.  
  
Harry stared at her fondly. He gently took her hand, and Elle gazed back at him with warm, calm eyes. Harry had, of course, been the one to stop her from punching Parvati in the first place. If it weren't for him, she most likely  _would_  have ended up doing something stupid.  
  
Lupin grinned at them. "Madam Pomfrey is waiting for the two of you in the hospital wing," he informed them. "She has been notified of the situation, and has the correct potions."  
  
"Thanks Professor," Harry said. "For everything," he added, not quite sure why he was saying it.  
  
"Come on," Elle urged, tugging on his arm. "Let's hurry up and get them, I want to go home."  
  
They headed to the hospital wing, being extra careful this time not to make any noise. Elle made a pit stop in the girl's bathroom to throw up one more time, very thankful that it had not happened at the meeting. Once they arrived, they found Madam Pomfrey already at the entrance, awaiting their arrival.  
  
"Come in, come in," she said hastily, ushering them through the door. "Right this way, be careful, there are a couple of third years asleep near the front..."  
  
The nurse bustled her way through the beds to her office all the way in the back, and gently closed the door behind them.  
  
"The Headmaster's just informed me of the situation," she told them breathlessly, reaching down behind a counter and producing numerous potion bottles filled with strange substances. "Luckily, I just happened to have a whole batch of concealment potions made a couple of days ago, so the two of you will be able to start using them as soon as necessary."  
  
Once she had laid them all out on the countertop, she straightened up and took a deep breath. "What you want to do is take one of these bottles and drink half in the morning, and the other half right before you go to sleep," she informed Elle, demonstrating by holding up one of the bottles. "It will allow for your appearance to look completely normal, and won't affect anything else. Assuming you take the potion at the correct time, each dose should last up to twelve hours. Do try to take them sparingly though- they should only be used if necessary."  
  
Elle nodded. "Thanks," she said softly, taking an armful of potions from Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"Just send me an owl when you need more," she told them kindly. "Oh, and by the way...congratulations," she added with a wink. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." She sighed. "Just...try not to get into any more trouble, alright?"  
  
"We'll try," Harry began, but then Elle kicked him, and he automatically changed his answer to, "We won't."  
  
"We're sorry to have caused you any trouble," Elle told the nurse.  
  
"No trouble at all, dears," the nurse said wearily, though with a smile. "Have a good evening."  
  
Later, once the two of them had traveled back home and were getting ready for bed, Harry yawned loudly and threw himself onto the bed face-down, while Elle was busy lining up her new potions behind the bathroom sink. After a few minutes, she finished her arrangement and threw herself onto the bed next to Harry, both of their feet and arms sprawled out in the same direction.  
  
"That was some night, wasn't it?" Harry said tiredly, his voice muffled by the sheets. Elle propped herself up on her elbows and blew the hair away from her face.  
  
"I'll say," she replied, tracing the slight pattern of the covers with her finger, and swinging her feet back and forth against the bedspread.  
  
Harry was silent for a moment, just listening to the sound of her feet, and then a thought struck him. "How shocked do you think people will be once they finally find out we have a child?" he wondered out loud.  
  
Elle shrugged. "I personally don't care if any of our friends find out," she told him bluntly. "As long as...well..." she hesitated. "As long as Parvati doesn't know about it."  
  
Harry looked at her thoughtfully, intrigued by the distrustful tone in her voice. "I know she's nasty and all, but do you really think she would do something to hurt the baby?" he asked.  
  
"She would do something to hurt  _me_ ," Elle told him truthfully. "And the baby by default. I mean, she almost destroyed our relationship. What's stopping her from destroying our family?" She groaned. "I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid. All I know is that I'm not letting her anywhere near our child."  
  
Harry yawned again and rolled over onto his back as well. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you or the baby."  
  
Elle smiled at his heroic-ness, trying to decide whether she found it sweet, or corny.

"I know," she settled on responding, closing her eyes.  
  
Harry grinned and surveyed her. "Well," he said, pretending as if it wasn't extremely late at night. "What do you want to do now?"  
  
Elle opened one eye and stared at him. "Hmm," she replied, pretending to ponder the thought. "We could try this new thing called sleeping?"  
  
Harry thought about it for a while, before brightening. "Yeah," he said. "Or, we could do something else...I mean, you're already pregnant, what else could happen?"  
  
He looked at Elle expectantly, but instead of agreeing, she fixed him with a straight face. "We're not having sex," she told him flatly, but a smile was playing around the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Oh, right," Harry said, getting under the covers and turning away from her. "Of course not."  
  
Elle shook her head, too tired to laugh. "Fine then," she said, getting under the covers herself. "Night."  
  
"By the way," Harry piped up, as Elle went to turn out the lights with a point of her finger. "Sleep was my second choice."  
  
"Sure it was," Elle said tiredly, yawning and closing her eyes once more. Then, she playfully poked Harry in the arm. 

"Hey," she whispered into the night.  
  
Harry opened one eye. "What?" he whispered back.  
  
Elle grinned. "We're totally having a baby!" she squealed. She felt a lot better after telling their professors, and gaining Dumbledore's help in keeping them safe. She felt as if she could finally allow herself to become excited, and as she saw Harry grin, she knew he was thinking the same thing.  
  
"We are," he said quietly, beaming into his pillow, and squeezing Elle's hand. Then they both laughed.  
  
"We're having a baby!"   
  
"And we're eighteen!"  
  
“And we’re becoming responsible, grown adults!”  
  
"Take that, Voldemort!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, but continued to smile happily.

"You're crazy," he mumbled to his wife, closing his eyes, and finally letting sleep wash over him.


	39. The Heartbreak

"Harry…”  
  
Harry shifted a little and turned over in his sleep, too consumed by exhaustion to recognize who was calling out his name, or to even open his eyes.  
  
 _"Harry…"_  
  
Harry groaned and flopped onto his back, rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
Harry eyes flew open; his heart was now pounding with fear, and his breath was coming out in short, raspy breaths. Why was Elle screaming out his name in such...terror?  
  
 _She must be in danger!_  He thought dreadfully. But wait, how could she be in danger? Wasn't she sleeping soundly in the bed right next to him? Harry glanced to his side, yanking back the bedcovers forcefully. There was nobody there.  
  
He heard her scream out his name in fright once again, and Harry quickly jumped to his feet, grabbing his wand out from underneath the pillow where he had stashed it for safekeeping.  
  
"Elle!" he shouted into the darkness, silently begging for her to answer him. But no more shouts came his way.  
  
"Elle!" he exclaimed again, a bit more forcefully, but still nothing. The flat was dead silent now.  
  
Harry walked over to the bedroom door, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet, and opened it, looking out into the hallway. Not a single light shone; all that lay ahead was bathed in inky blackness.  
  
"Lumos," he muttered, and the tip of his wand lit up. He didn't know if he was imagining things or not, but it sounded as if there were shrill screams coming from far, far off...like someone was being tortured. Harry took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway.  
  
Only it wasn't his and Elle's warm, familiar hallway anymore.   
  
Somehow, Harry had stepped into what looked like a dungeon, though it was far from the dungeons he was used to entering at Hogwarts for Potions lessons. This place was far more foreboding; the torches mounted along the cold stone walls were burning with dark blue flames, and the air around him was so frigid that every time he took a breath, a trail of mist filtered out from his mouth and nostrils.  
  
Straining his ears for more sounds of screams, he swallowed hard and gripped his wand tightly, wishing desperately that he had his sword with him. But instead of more screaming, all he could hear was the sound of furious waves crashing against the walls of wherever it was he stood...as if the ocean were demanding entry into the icy, stone dungeon. Harry quickly calculated that he must be on the edge of some sort of beach.  
  
Suddenly, more screams sounded from far off, along with an evil, high-pitched cackle that could only belong to one person. Harry's heartbeat quickened, and with a sick feeling rising in his stomach, he started to run, dashing through the freezing cold dungeon in a desperate need to find a way out.

Coming across a heavy oak door that was bolted shut, Harry paused and held his wand straight out in front of him.  
  
"Alohamora!" he shouted.  
  
The locks embracing the door's threshold broke apart, and the door flew open at once to reveal another dark room adorned with the same blue torches. Harry raced into it, holding his lit wand aloft to guide his way. Finally, just when it seemed like he had been running for ages, he stumbled upon a large, circular room, which contained a giant staircase. The torches along these walls burned with emerald flames. He still had no idea where he was, though he could assume that it was, indeed, a mansion.  
  
"Nox," he muttered, and the light glowing at the end of the wand extinguished itself.  
  
"Elle, can you hear me?" he bellowed, bracing himself for more screams, but all was silent. He swallowed, and gripped his hands into tight fists, nearly snapping his wand in half.

"Elle, answer me!"  
  
"I wouldn't waste your breath, Harry. I doubt she can hear you any longer."  
  
Harry froze at the sound of Lord Voldemort's voice. Turning slowly, he peered into the shadowy corner of the room near the elegant staircase, and into those piercing, blood red eyes.  
  
But that wasn't what shocked him the most. What made him gasp was what lay on the floor beside him. There, crumpled up in a stationary heap, was Elle. Her face was stark white, and her eyes were closed, but Harry could tell just from looking at her that she was dead.  
  
"No," he whispered, grief already beginning to wash over him from the inside out. "No, it can't be…”  
  
Voldemort let out a hollow laugh. "I assure you, it can. She's gone, Harry."  
  
Harry found it extremely hard to breathe. His mind was racing wildly; he just couldn't grasp the fact that Elle, the girl he loved more than anything else in the entire world...was dead. It just wasn't conceivable. Everything had been so wonderful...they were happy, they were going to have a baby...and now, it seemed as if every particle of life were draining out of him at a rapid pace. Now there was nothing left in his life, nothing to live for...what more was there to look forward to now, except death?  
  
Slowly, he lowered his wand and dropped it onto the floor. He no longer wanted to cause Voldemort pain, no longer wanted to get revenge. All he wanted was for it to all be over.  
  
Voldemort seemed to read his mind as he gazed down at him, though there was no sign of pity or sympathy on his face. Harry gazed back at him with a detached look.  
  
"You've killed her," he said vacantly, his voice echoing off the walls of the mansion. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”  
  
Voldemort raised his wand, and fixed Harry with a glare. "It's time to die, Harry," he said slowly, pointing the wand straight at his heart. "You have nothing left to live for.”  
  
Harry didn't argue. Looking down at Elle's dead body, he felt his heart break, and silently surrendered to Voldemort's will. Casting his eyes downward, he braced himself for the worst...the only consoling thought in his mind was that in a few seconds, all of this would end. He didn't even bother to register the searing pain coming from his scar; it didn't matter to him now.  
  
Blinding green light shot out of Voldemort's wand and hit Harry square in the chest. The next moment, Harry was lying on the hard, stone floor, sprawled on his back. Relief washed over him, though still, his mind raced. 

_This is it_ , he thought to himself. _I'm dead. I’ll get to see my parents again, and Sirius, and…and Elle…_  
  
He continued to lie there, waiting for something to happen. He didn't know about anyone else, but he had imagined death to be a lot different. He at least thought it would be painless, but after lying on the ground for who knows how long, he could feel his back beginning to ache and his head growing sore. Wasn't something supposed to have happened by now?  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry didn't open his eyes. This was the fourth time that night his name had been called, and it sounded as if it were coming from the same person. But how could that be? Elle was dead...he had seen her lying on the ground at Voldemort's feet. There was no way she could be alive. And how could he still be hearing things when he was supposed to be dead?

He continued to remain motionless, not daring to believe what he so desperately wanted to be true.  
  
"Harry..."  
  
There was no questioning it- that voice belonged to Elle. Harry cautiously opened his eyes, blinking hurriedly to take in his surroundings. He couldn't help but gasp. The stone, circular room with the staircase was rapidly shrinking away, replaced by the newly painted walls of his and Elle's bedroom.  
  
He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. He was back in his room, sitting comfortably on top of his bed. Turning to his side, he found with enormous relief that Elle was sitting up as well, gazing down at him and looking concerned.  
  
"Elle!" he exclaimed. "You're alive!"  
  
Without waiting for a response, he threw his arms around her and pulled her close to him, holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her. Elle held on to him just as tightly, pressing her soft cheek against his shoulder. They stayed that way for a long, long time, until Elle pulled back and gave him a questioning stare.  
  
"You really scared me," she told him, her voice shaking slightly. "I heard you screaming my name over and over again."  
  
"Well,  _you_  scared me," Harry admitted, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "I thought you were dead." He took another few deep, easy breaths to calm himself down. "But it was only a nightmare," he said quietly, partly to himself.  
  
Elle touched his arm lightly. "Hey, I'm supposed to be the one with the nightmares, remember?" she said easily, trying to make him feel better. But when she saw his expression, her face grew serious. "Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked.  
  
Harry gazed at her and swallowed. 

"I dreamt that Voldemort killed you," he said, trying his best to keep his voice steady. "I heard you screaming, and I tried to reach you, but when I got there it was too late. You were already on the floor, and then Voldemort turned his wand on me." He sighed, and shook his head. "It was so vivid," he whispered.  
  
Elle nodded slightly, understanding completely. She felt the same way every time she had a nightmare.  
  
"It's okay," she told him gently, rumpling his hair and trying to comfort him. "I'm alive, you're alive, Voldemort's miles away from here..." she trailed off as he looked into her eyes. "And when we attack him and his army, we are so totally going to defeat him," she finished confidently, giving him a small, warm smile.  
  
Harry grinned a little to show he that he appreciated what she was trying to do, but his heart wasn't in it. Elle seemed to notice this, and sighed, withdrawing her hand from where it lay entangled in his messy hair.  
  
"Where are you going?" he asked suddenly, as she slid out of bed. He wasn't that keen on letting her out of his sight so quickly.  
  
"Be right back," she murmured in response and disappeared out into the hallway, which was now brightly lit and free of dark, blue-flamed passages.  
  
Harry fell back against the pillows and sighed, stretching his arms up above his head, and letting them fall to his side again.   
  
Why did this nightmare have to occur now, just as things were starting to look up for them? Come to think of it, Harry had been in a somewhat state of bliss for the past couple of months, but now he could feel his carefree attitude steadily slipping away, leaving him with a feeling of dread. Time seemed to have passed by so quickly, though a lot had happened in the past six months.  
  
Hermione and Ron had already had their first major fight over something so idiotic that Harry couldn't even remember what it was, and Hermione had threatened to move out of their flat for good. After a little while, they resolved their issues.   
  
Harry and Elle had celebrated their first Christmas and Hanukah together as a married couple, even though they didn't do anything fancy. They were invited to the Burrow for a large, delicious turkey dinner and both enjoyed it immensely. Harry didn't know why, but he had a strange feeling that Mrs. Weasley suspected something was up between him and Elle. Maybe it was just the fact that Ron's mum had mother's intuition, or maybe it was because Elle had eaten triple helpings of everything, but nonetheless, Mrs. Weasley kept asking if Elle was feeling all right, and shot Harry covert looks all evening.  
  
Besides Mrs. Weasley, however, no one else had any clue. Harry felt horrible for not telling Ron's family, but knew that they must continue to follow Dumbledore's advice and keep everything a secret. And so far, he had kept his mouth shut. By now it was already April. Christmas suddenly seemed so far, far away.  
  
In addition to everything else, more couples seemed to be blossoming everywhere lately, especially among the younger Order members. Lavender and Dean had gotten back together, and usually could be seen holding hands and kissing each other when they weren't busy practicing with swords. Neville was also starting to show a particular interest in Hannah Abbott, though Harry doubted whether Hannah noticed this or not. Cho and Michael Corner were as chummy as ever, and Parvati Patil seemed to have finally gotten over her small infatuation with Harry and was currently set on regaining the affections of Seamus- who didn’t seem enthused by Parvati’s sudden attention.   
  
What wasn't as obvious, however, was the relationship between Ginny and Draco. During some meetings, Harry could see that they were both making significant eye contact, and that if Ron weren't present, they would have definitely moved a bit closer to each other. Although, usually during these meetings, no one could tell whether they were even friends, let alone romantically involved. It was definitely an odd situation, but it wasn't like Harry could discuss the status of their relationship with Elle, as she would have no idea what he was talking about.  
  
Elle had missed the last five months’ worth of Order meetings, simply because of the fact that with or without the concealment potion, it was nearly impossible for her to swordfight. Every Healer and Professor had strongly advised against her going near swords, despite Elle’s protests that she’d be careful. Her last meeting was at the end of November, during which McGonagall had sternly steered her from the room, forbidding her to go near anything with a sharp blade.

She wasn't exactly happy about missing out on all the fun, and making Harry go by himself, but she recognized the importance of safety. Besides giving up sword fighting, Harry had to admit that for someone who was now seven months pregnant, she wasn't slowing down one bit.  
  
However, there were consequences to her missing the meetings. For instance, questions had begun to arise from their friends, inquiring the reason behind Elle's many absences. Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had started telling everyone that Elle had fallen extremely ill, and was not allowed any contact with others until the sickness had cleared. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Lupin supported this lie by continuously asking Harry at each meeting how Elle was feeling, and if she were getting any better. Parvati usually sneered at this, insisting to anyone who would listen that Elle was just trying to slack off.  
  
For the first couple of months, people had seemed to buy this explanation, and many had expressed their concern for Elle, as well as their wishes for her to get better soon. Lately though, Harry knew that most of the people who had once shown concern were now showing signs of suspicion. Harry refused to share any more information about Elle's sudden and prolonged "illness", and now people were starting to question whether he was telling the truth. Harry didn't know how much longer he could keep up with his lie; the truth couldn't be kept hidden forever.  
  
In addition to everything that had happened at the meetings, Harry had gotten a job. He knew that Elle desperately wanted him to pursue Auror training, but he refused to begin until Elle was able to join with him. Since it was glaringly obvious that the money left behind from both of their parents, not to mention the money Elle had earned by selling her Aunt and Uncle's old house would not be able to sustain them forever, Harry had accepted a part-time job at the Ministry of Magic, just for the time being. 

Dumbledore had informed Kinglsey Shacklebolt and Tonks of his wish to become an Auror, and so the two of them had managed to hire Harry, Ron, and Hermione as their own personal assistants. At least this way, the three of them would be receiving first-hand experience in the field, even if they couldn't begin their actual training right away. Kingsley and Tonks even sent Harry home with paperwork for Elle, who was able to copy down meeting minutes and read up on Auror policy from the safety of their bedroom.   
  
Harry had argued countless times with his friends about going ahead with the training without him and Elle, but Ron and Hermione both agreed there was no way unless they could all train together. Besides, they argued, it was fun working right in the middle of Auror Headquarters. They got loads of inside information, and got to listen to many of the Auror's stories about dangerous raids and attacks. Everybody who worked there treated the three of them as very important, even if all they ever got to do was file paperwork, polish someone's wand occasionally, and go on coffee runs.  
  
A big downside to working this much, of course, was having to leave Elle home by herself every day. He knew that she hated having to sit at home and do paperwork, but there was more to it than that. Elle had expressed her thoughts to Harry many times, saying that she felt useless not being able to earn money, and that she didn't want Harry working so hard. Harry tried to comfort her, and tell her that he didn't mind working for their growing family.   
  
So, Elle stayed home alone, dutifully kissing Harry goodbye every morning as he left for work, and then waltzing into the kitchen to cook and clean. She hated every minute of it.  
  
Harry tried his best to make it up to her; He went to every single Healer appointment at St. Mungo's with great enthusiasm, keeping tabs on their baby's growth, and on weekends, he, Ron, and Hermione did all they could to keep her company. They spent many hours going out to shop in search for baby supplies. Even though the baby was still two months away, shopping was just about the only time Elle could go out and enjoy herself without having to worry about anyone interrogating her.   
  
And, Harry had to admit, he found the shopping sort of fun as well. During one of their outings, while in search for a crib, Harry observed just how crowded the shop was with couples.  
  
“Wow, turns out people really do want the best for their kids,” Harry had said, examining a couple next to them who had just picked out a 5,000 galleon crib that self-rocked and glittered with stars.   
  
“Who knew?” Elle then responded, gazing at the much cheaper crib next to her. It was plain white, and didn't have any built-in magic, but she figured she could just paint it and make it special herself.  
  
Harry had left the job of decorating the baby's room up to her, a project Elle was more than willing to accept. Even though they had decided to keep the sex of the baby a secret, it didn't matter; the colors could easily be changed. What did matter was creating (according to Elle) a unique room, one so fantastic that no other baby in the world would have one like it.  
  
Harry was quickly torn from his thoughts as Elle came back into the room, carrying a small tray complete with a hot, steaming cup of tea and a cool, damp washcloth. Setting the tray down on the bedside table, Elle picked up the washcloth and practically rammed it against Harry's forehead.  
  
"Here," she said, before he could protest. "Hold this against your scar. And don't lie to me, I know it hurts!" she added hurriedly, as he opened his mouth to object. Feebly, he closed it and obediently held the washcloth up to his forehead.  
  
"Thanks," he replied, closing his eyes tiredly.  
  
"I made you some tea too," she said, picking up the mug and handing it to him. "Proper English tea, I swear. No shots of liquor in it though, sorry."  
  
Harry opened his eyes and gratefully took the cup from her, raising it to his lips. However, before he took a sip, he stopped, and his eyes suddenly narrowed. Elle tilted her head at his reaction.  
  
"I haven't poisoned it," she insisted.  
  
Harry shook his head. "This isn't right," he argued. "I should be taking care of you."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, except that I don't need to be taken care of." She sat down on the edge of the bed right next to Harry. "Besides," she said suddenly. "It's good practice."  
  
Harry smiled the best he could. He was still panicky from the nightmare.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he told her suddenly.  
  
Elle gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, a girl does what she can," she replied. “I do spend every day growing eyeballs and tiny limbs, you know.”   
  
Harry tilted his head to one side and stared at her, admiring how a person could look so beautiful in the dead of night without even trying. As he voiced his compliments to her, however, she only continued to give him a skeptical look.  
  
"Beautiful? Are you kidding me?" she replied incredulously. "I feel like a fat, enormous whale. None of my clothes fit anymore, my feet are too swollen for my shoes, and I think I have this thing called ‘pregnancy brain’…”   
  
"You're ridiculous," Harry said flatly. "And there's no way you could be a whale."  
  
Elle crossed her arms over her chest. "Why not?" she asked.  
  
"Because I doubt whales have as much hair as you," he said lightly, tugging on one of her random curls. “You’re like Rapunzel come to life.”  
  
It was true- Elle hadn’t cut her hair in quite some time. She swatted his arm away from her hair.  
  
"Oh, give me a break," she said in exasperation. "I'll remind you of this when you announce that you're leaving me for some glamorous model." She got up and stole Harry's cup away.  
  
"Hey, I wasn't done!" Harry exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, you are," she replied, gazing at the empty cup, taking back the washcloth and piling both items neatly on the tray. Harry watched her, his eyes filled with wonder.  
  
"Wow," he said in admiration. "You really have turned into a motherly figure, haven't you?"  
  
Elle sighed. "Yeah, whatever," she said, but she smiled gently. "Be right back," she muttered tiredly, for the second time, turning around to bring the tray back into the kitchen. Harry stood up and stopped her before she got all the way to the door.  
  
"Allow me," he said, taking the tray from her. Elle looked up at him.  
  
"Harry, it's okay, I can carry a tray," she said.  
  
"Just get back into bed," Harry ordered.  
  
She stood there for a moment, blinking. Then her exhaustion finally caught up with her, and she submissively made her way back towards the welcoming comfort of their bed.  
  
"If you say so," she replied, though Harry was already out of the room by the time her head hit the pillow.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't just the morning sunshine filtering in through the windows that sent an enormous jolt of relief through Harry's system- it was also the fact that today was Saturday. There were no more nightmares, no work to go to, and most importantly, he'd get to spend time with Elle. Sighing in content, he stretched his arms up over his head and looked to his side, only to find that once again, Elle was not there.  
  
Frowning, he sat up in bed and looked around curiously. A few seconds later, he heard strange sounds coming from the kitchen. Warily, he tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the hallway, not pausing until he entered the living room, which provided a full view of their entire kitchen. What he saw made his eyes almost pop out from their sockets.  
  
There was Elle, standing almost dauntingly at the stove, peering down into a large pan with deep concentration. The pan was sizzling, and Harry could smell the familiar scent of pancake batter wafting from inside it. He stood silently for a few moments, until curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "What in the world are you doing?"  
  
Elle didn't answer. "Stand back," she commanded, lifting the pan off the stove.  
  
Harry cautiously took a few steps back, and watched in amazement as Elle gave the pan a little shake, then flipped the entire contents of it into the air. She pointed her finger at them with her free hand, making the airborne pancakes perform an impressive number of back flips and somersaults, until they landed perfectly back in the pan again with a soft little thump.  
  
When Harry walked next to Elle and looked down, he saw that all the pancakes were now in the shape of broomsticks and golden snitches, and were a nice shade of golden brown. Harry gazed at her with wide eyes, and Elle grinned.  
  
"That was incredible," Harry admitted. "I had no idea you knew how to flip pancakes in the air."  
  
Elle sighed. "Yeah, well, I had to find some way to entertain myself while you were gone at work. I figured I might as well learn to cook."  
  
"Not only that," Harry said, turning off the stove for her and opening one of the cabinets to get some plates. "You learned to cook without burning the house down!"  
  
Elle put her hand on Harry's arm to stop him from reaching the pile of newly washed, chipped plates.  
  
"Allow me," she said, the same way Harry had done last night.  
  
Pointing her finger once more, four plates, four sets of silverware and four glasses zoomed out of their respective cabinets and flew across the kitchen until neatly setting themselves in front of the four chairs gathered around the kitchen table. She then pointed at the refrigerator, and a bottle of maple syrup, as well as a carton of orange juice, floated over to the table too. The orange juice opened itself up, filled all four glasses, and then landed gently into a stationary stop beside the syrup.  
  
Elle crossed her arms over her chest and smiled to herself, clearly satisfied. Harry now knew what she had been up to every time he went away. He had to say, she had gotten very good at performing these kind of household spells. Which was very good news, because he had no idea how to perform them.  
  
"Why are there four plates?" he asked, as they went to sit down.  
  
"Oh, did I mention Ron and Hermione were coming over for breakfast?" she said, taking a sip of orange juice.  
  
Harry stared at her. "No."  
  
Elle shrugged. "Well, they are," she said. "And then Hermione's staying to help me decorate the baby's room."  
  
"Oh," Harry said, sounding a little disappointed. He had been looking forward to spending a full day alone with Elle until he had to go to the Order meeting later. He had missed last week's meeting, so it was especially important that he went tonight. He felt guilty for skipping it, but Elle had looked so upset when it was time for him to leave, that he had decided on the spur of the moment to surprise her by staying home and turning their night into a romantic evening instead. He wished he could skip it again, but he knew that wasn't possible.  
  
"I know!" Elle said suddenly, her eyes brightening. "Why don't you and Ron go out and do something?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Like what?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "I don't know, but I'm sure you two can think of something. You two haven't had time to hang out together in so long. So, go out, be eighteen! Find a couple of hot babes and go wild." She smiled mischievously.  
  
Harry laughed, but at the same time felt guilty. She was telling him to go out and have fun, while she had been stuck inside for the better part of five months?   
  
"Hot babes sound like a good idea," he joked.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes again and shook her head. "Good luck finding any who'll be interested," she teased.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, I already seem to have a hot babe at home. She even cooks for me and everything," he whispered, pretending to sound secretive.  
  
Elle nodded slowly. "Oh, I see," she responded, in the same conspiratorial tone. "But are you sure she's really interested in you?"  
  
"One can only hope."  
  
"Well, keep hoping. Honestly, I think it was just the pregnancy that really brought us together."  
  
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed indignantly, ripping off a piece of pancake and tossing it at her.  
  
"Looks like we came at the right time," came Ron's voice from behind them.  
  
Elle and Harry both jumped. They had both been so absorbed in making fun of each other and flicking food, that they hadn't even noticed Ron and Hermione waltzing through their fireplace. The two of them straightened up immediately, and Elle gave them a small smile.  
  
"Hi guys," she greeted warmly. "Hurry up and sit down."  
  
"What's this?" Hermione asked as she sat down, raising her eyebrows at the broomstick-shaped pancake lying on her plate.  
  
"Pancakes," Elle said simply. "I made them myself."  
  
Ron looked at her with the same wide-eyed look Harry had used earlier. "You made these?" he asked disbelievingly. "But that can't be true, the house is still standing."  
  
Harry snickered, but then shook his head. "Actually, Ron, she's not kidding. I saw her with my own two eyes."  
  
"That's right," Elle said. "And I better see you eating them!" she added, pointing her fork towards Ron and Hermione.  
  
After breakfast was over (both Ron and Hermione had agreed that Elle's pancakes were outstanding), Harry and Ron headed out, and Hermione and Elle stayed behind. 

“Did you bring it?” Elle whispered to Hermione, as soon as the boys were gone.

Hermione sighed, then nodded.

“I could get in so much trouble for this,” she muttered to Elle, handing her the dagger. “I told McGonagall I wanted to practice on my own a little before the meeting, and I snuck your sword out of the crate when she wasn’t looking.”

Elle raised her eyebrows. “And you approve of continuing our secret sessions?” she asked her friend. 

“Not really,” Hermione admitted. “But we’re only going over defense moves to keep you sharp, and you did promise to cast a protection charm around yourself.”

“That I did,” said Elle, raising her hands. A shield charm was placed around her body as she held up her dagger, getting into position across from Hermione. Luckily, she had had the foresight to make space in the living room before Harry had woken up. 

“What did you tell Harry we were doing today?” Hermione asked, raising her sword as well.

“That we were decorating the nursery,” Elle said calmly, swinging the dagger against Hermione’s blade. Hermione swiftly blocked her. “Which we should do, later.”

Hermione smiled. Her long brown hair was tied back in a braid, and she was subtly dressed for combat practice. Elle was only in leggings and an oversized jumper, but it was the best she could do.

“Let’s make this quick,” Hermione said, glancing nervously at Elle. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you, I would never forgive myself.”

Elle shook back her hair from her face. “Nothing is going to happen,” she told Hermione seriously. “I wouldn’t let it. I’m doing this to protect my child.”

Hermione let out a deep breath.

“Okay then,” she said, raising the sword again. “Let’s begin. And don’t hold your sword like that, have you forgotten what Dumbledore taught us already? One hand near the top of the handle, the other toward the bottom, and elbows out.”

Elle listened closely to Hermione’s instructions, carefully maneuvering her sword and watching her footwork. She had to admit, it felt good to be doing something productive. She had hated feeling so dormant, and so helpless. If anything happened while Harry was away, she wanted to be able to defend herself and the baby. Thankfully, with Hermione’s help, she could feel her defenses waking up, and her mind and muscles felt more alive than they had in weeks.

She also practiced wandless magic as she held the sword, and sparks shot from her fingers with every clang of the blades. Pregnancy had been causing her magic to go slightly haywire, and working simple spells with her hands had been tricky- she never knew whether she would make an object levitate, or explode. Elle suspected it had something to do with her emotions, which had been heightened for the last seven months. Or maybe using so much energy on magic disturbed the baby; this was confirmed as an insistent fluttering in her stomach made her pause the sword fighting.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked, lowering the sword and placing it carefully in a sheath.

“Yes,” Elle said, smiling to herself as she lowered her own sword. She loved feeling the little kicks during these practice sessions, but she wasn’t about to tell Hermione that anything unusual had just happened. Still, she had to admit- it was a cool feeling.

“Let’s stop and work on the nursery,” Hermione suggested, taking their swords and stowing them in a small bag. The bag had been magically magnified on the inside, and both swords fit comfortably. 

“Okay,” Elle said, undoing the shield charm. “Thanks for the practice.”

They quickly got started on decorating. Situating themselves around the newly-bought, creamy white crib, the two girls decided to paint it the old-fashioned way.  
  
They worked diligently in silence for a few minutes. Elle chewed on her lip, clearly thinking hard, until she finally looked down into the can of paint, which instantly turned to a shade of midnight blue. Dipping her paintbrush into the dark liquid, she proceeded to paint a large streak onto the front of the crib with a long, clean sweep. Hermione followed her lead, painting the other side in the exact same color. When they were done, Hermione settled back and smiled.  
  
"I love it," she breathed, her face practically glowing. "The color is perfect!"  
  
Elle picked out a smaller paintbrush and began to paint intricate, swirling designs on the crib in the shade of yellow. "I thought it would be a good color for a girl or a boy," she said, shrugging.  
  
"Which would you rather have?" Hermione asked curiously, replacing her paintbrush back into the can and wiping her hands on her legs. "A boy or a girl?"  
  
Elle sighed and narrowed her eyes, preoccupied in her designs. "I'm not sure," she replied, sounding a bit nervous. "I just want it to be healthy. I’ve been reading a lot of books, and there are so many things that can go wrong…do you know there is a list of stuff I’m not even supposed to eat or drink? It’s terrifying!”  
  
“And I’m sure sword fighting doesn’t help,” Hermione joked. She smiled up at Elle, only to find that her friend suddenly appeared anxious and uncertain.

"Don't worry," Hermione comforted her, trying to make her feel better. "We practiced safely, and that cup of coffee you had the other day won’t kill you. The baby will be fine. You’re doing great! And it will have two wonderful parents." She surveyed Elle’s drawings. “You’re really good at art, you know.”  
  
Elle gave Hermione a tiny smile. Drawing was just about the only thing she was good at.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione," she said quietly, biting her lip.  
  
There was a short pause, until Elle faced Hermione with a sudden, questioning stare. "Hey, how are things going with you and Ron?" she asked, trying to change the subject from babies.   
  
It was now Hermione's turn to look anxious. "Well..." she began, but then hesitated.  
  
Elle narrowed her eyes. "What is it?" she pressed. Hermione remained silent. "Come on, you can tell me!" she said, starting to grow a little worried. She thought that Hermione and Ron were the perfect couple! What could possibly be going on between them?  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she finally said, looking away from Elle. "Absolutely nothing. Everything's great, Ron loves me, I love him, and everything's just so pathetically perfect."  
  
Elle frowned. "Then why..."  
  
"It's just been so boring!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up and beginning to pace around the room, while Elle sat on the floor staring at her. "Every day is exactly the same! It's like, ever since we started living together, we've become this old, dull, tidy little couple who occasionally bicker, and it seems like we've been together for fifty years." She flopped down on the couch and sighed. "And we're not even married!"  
  
Elle blinked, surprised by Hermione's sudden outburst. "But you two still love each other, right?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said in a soft voice, looking down at her lap. "I think so. At least, I still love him."  
  
"Well, then it sounds to me like all you need is to liven things up a bit!" Elle said, standing up and walking over to Hermione. "People fall into ruts, Hermione. It happens all the time."  
  
"But that's not it," Hermione whispered, her cheeks beginning to turn red. "I want what you and Harry have. I want to get married, and have a family, and... I just want things to be perfect. I want to be happy."  
  
Elle sighed and sat down next to her, tucking her feet up underneath her. "Hermione, Harry and I are  _not_  perfect," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "Okay yeah, we're married, but that doesn't mean everything in our lives is perfectly romantic and flawless. It just means that Harry angers me more than usual, and I probably do the same to him. And besides..." (She gestured towards the crib), "do you think we planned for all this to happen?"  
  
"I know," Hermione said. "But at least you have something to look forward too. I just know that Ron will never, and I mean never, get around to asking me to marry him. At least not until someone brings up the idea to him first. He's fine with the way things are. But  _I_ need them to be different. I can't keep going on like this, pretending that I'm fine when really all I want is something more."  
  
Elle looked at Hermione sympathetically. "Are you sure that marriage is the answer to all of this?" she asked hesitantly. "Marriage is a huge responsibility; you said so yourself. And you and Ron are still so young!"  
  
Hermione gave Elle a look. "You and Harry did it," she said accusingly, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
Elle nodded her head slowly, her gaze fixed on Hermione. "You're right," she said. "We defied the odds, tied the knot, and everything was cheesy and romantic for about five minutes. But if I had known everything that was going to happen, I'd..." She stopped, noticing the shocked look on Hermione's face. "What?" she asked.  
  
Hermione hesitated. "Are you saying you regret it?" she asked softly.  
  
Elle thought for a moment, and then slowly shook her head. "No," she replied, her voice stronger than before. "Of course not. I'm just saying that if I had known, I definitely would have waited a couple of years before getting married.”  
  
Hermione swallowed hard and nodded.  
  
"If getting married to Ron is what you really want, then it's your choice," Elle told her. "But I don't think it's the answer to your problem.”  
  
Hermione looked up at Elle after she said this, and Elle was surprised to see her eyes glistening with tears.  
  
“Hermione,” Elle said softly, conjuring a tissue out of thin air and gently handing it to her.  
  
Hermione dabbed the tissue at her eyes and took a deep breath. "I think Ron and I need to, you know, be apart for a little while."  
  
Elle frowned. "You want to break up with him?"  
  
"No, not break up," Hermione said quickly, shaking her head. "I just think we need some time off. An indefinite period of separation."  
  
Elle found that her mouth had dropped open in shock, and she instantly closed it. That sure sounded like a break up to her. 

"But...you guys live together!" she sputtered, trying to talk some sense into Hermione. "And Ron's going to be heartbroken when he finds out!"  
  
Hermione looked determined. "This is going to be hard for me too," she said defensively. "Believe me, I never thought in a million years I'd be saying this. But I can't explain it...it's just something I have to do. Ron needs to figure out for himself that I'm not always going to be there waiting for him to finally grow up." She paused for a moment, thinking. "I can move out for a little while, and live with my parents."  
  
Elle was staring at Hermione, dumbfounded. "Why don't you just  _tell_ Ron you're not happy?"  
  
Hermione gave her a look. "Because I need to know if he wants the same things I do," she said, super quietly. "And the only way we both can know for sure is if we spend some time apart, and see how we feel once we're on our own. I need to know if we're meant to be together." She took a deep breath. "He needs to figure this out on his own."  
  
Elle slowly reached out her arms. Hermione rested her head in Elle’s lap, and Elle softly stroked her hair.

"Well, Hermione," Elle said sadly. "To tell you the truth, I don't think moving out and breaking up with Ron is the answer. But I understand what you're saying, and if it feels right to you, then you should do it."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly, and tears dripped down her face. "Thanks," she whispered.  
  
Elle nodded, silently promising to herself never to let her child date. 

* * *

"It's been a while since we did this," Ron said reminiscently, looking around the outside area of Florean Fortescues' Ice Cream Parlor.  
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed, taking a large bite out of his chocolate pecan ice cream cone. "I'm going to miss having to come here every summer for school stuff."  
  
Ron looked up thoughtfully. "Well, you know, once your kid starts going to Hogwarts, you're going to have to come here every summer for those things."  
  
"Oh yeah," Harry said, tossing his half-eaten cone into the garbage bin behind them. "Forgot about that." The thought of his child going to Hogwarts for the first time was so far in the future that he couldn't fully grasp the concept yet.  
  
"Come on," Ron said, getting up and throwing his own cup of strawberry ice cream away. "Let's walk around."  
  
As they roamed the streets of Diagon Alley, Harry couldn't help but be filled with memories. He remembered the first time he ever came here with Hagrid, a time long before Elle had entered his life, and how amazed he had been. He also remembered the time when he had visited with the Weasley's and had ended up in Knockturn Alley by mistake, and the time when he had spent two glorious weeks here while staying at the Leaky Cauldron, away from the Dursley's. Of course, there had been a reason for that, but he didn't feel like thinking about blowing up his aunt at a time like this. It was all in the past, anyway.  
  
Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked despondently at the numerous shops they were passing. Most had been closed and boarded up, and everyone was doing their shopping in huddled groups. It was a cold atmosphere, and this was not the Diagon Alley he knew. This was an Alley filled with fear. He knew Elle had told them to get out and go "wild", but he wasn't quite in the mood.  
  
"So, how're things going with you and Hermione?" he asked Ron, as a way of starting a conversation. It felt weird; relationship topics were more of an Elle thing. He just wanted a break from discussing babies for a moment.   
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders. "We're fine," he said, as if he were forcing himself to sound cheery. "It's just..." he stopped, looking unsure.  
  
Harry stopped walking. "What?" he asked.  
  
"I dunno," Ron said. "I think Hermione might be getting bored with me."  
  
"Why do you say that?" Harry asked, looking confused.   
  
"It’s almost as if she keeps expecting something more out of me, and I have no idea what she wants me to do." Ron sighed. "Actually, there was something I wanted to do, but now I'm not so sure..."  
  
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
Ron was now looking fixedly at the floor, the tips of his ears growing red. "I was kind of thinking about asking her to marry me."  
  
"What?" Harry exclaimed in shock.  
  
Ron nodded, almost guiltily. "Yeah. But now I don't know if that's such a good idea. I mean, if Hermione's unhappy with me, then she's definitely not going to want to marry me. So, I've been trying to pretend like I'm fine with the way things are, but that doesn't really seem to be working either. I don't know what she expects me to do!"  
  
Harry was silent for a moment. "How long has this been going on?" he asked. He felt really bad; he had been so self-absorbed lately that he hadn't even noticed that Ron and Hermione's relationship was suffering.  
  
Thankfully, Ron eased his mind by mumbling, "Not too long. I just don't know how much more of this I can take. All I want to do is make her happy, but right now she seems completely fed up."  
  
Harry sighed. "Are you really sure you want to get married, though? I mean, it's kind of tough..." But he faltered at the look on Ron's face.  
  
"I really do," he insisted. "I mean, I know it sounds dumb because we're so young and all that, but I can't explain it...it's just what I want. I want to be with her forever."  
  
"Trust me," Harry said, giving him a look. "It doesn't sound that dumb."  
  
Ron grinned a little. "I just need to know if Hermione wants the same thing," he said quietly, as they continued walking.  
  
"So ask her at the meeting tonight," Harry said simply. "That way you won't have to worry about it anymore."  
  
"Yeah," Ron said nervously, stuffing his own hands into his pockets. "Speaking of the meeting, there's something I need to tell you."  
  
"Like what?" Harry asked lightly, his mind already wandering elsewhere.  
  
"Well, Dumbledore spoke to us all last week about when we're going to leave for Voldemort's hideout. Apparently, him and Lupin were discussing the matter, and they reckon instead of heading straight for Voldemort, we should try to head up to the mountains and sort of...confront the giants first."  
  
Harry stared. "But what good will that do?" he asked.  
  
"Remember how that Damien bloke said something like, 'the giants won't come until they're called'?"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yeah," he said. How could he possibly forget?  
  
"Well, Dumbledore thinks it would be better if we tackle the giants first, without Voldemort and the Death Eaters knowing about it."  
  
"Wait a minute," Harry said, holding up his hands and stopping in his tracks. "How are we supposed to 'tackle' a bunch of giants without Voldemort knowing about it?"  
  
"I didn't exactly mean it like that. Dumbledore wants to try and convince the giants not to help Voldemort," Ron explained.  
  
Harry groaned. "Didn't we already try that?" he asked exasperatedly, remembering Hagrid. "And look how well that turned out."  
  
"I know," said Ron. "But Dumbledore reckons that if  _he_  goes this time and speaks to them himself, then they might reconsider. After all, Hagrid did say that the giants respected Dumbledore.”  
  
Harry let this new bit of information sink in. "And what happens if the giants  _don't_  decide to change their minds?"  
  
Ron swallowed grimly. "That's why we're going," he said seriously. "If the giants don't listen to Dumbledore and decide to attack us, then we're going to have to face them. There's also a chance that they could attack us without even listening to us, so Dumbledore wants us to take it very slow, and try to catch them when they're in a good mood."  
  
Harry didn't say anything for a few minutes. The thought of sneaking up on a bunch of giants, who were, for the moment, in league with Voldemort, did not sound at all promising.

"What if, by some miracle, everything does go according to plan, and the giants do agree to help us?" Harry asked Ron. "Then what?"  
  
"Then we head straight for Voldemort's hideout," Ron answered. "Times running out, and if we, well, if  _you_  don't do something soon...let's just say Voldemort's getting tired of waiting." He sighed again. "And if the giants don't agree to switch sides, then we fight back, get the hell out of there as quickly as possible, and head straight for Voldemort anyway."  
  
Harry nodded slowly, remembering what Elle said about fulfilling the prophecy as soon as possible. "When does Dumbledore plan for all of this to happen?"  
  
"In two weeks," Ron told him, staring absentmindedly at the store window behind Harry. "We leave the Saturday after next."  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "I should warn Elle," he said, looking down and kicking a stray pebble with his foot. "She hasn't even been to a single meeting in five months! She's going to freak out when she hears she only has two weeks to get ready..."  
  
"Harry," Ron said suddenly, cutting him off. He was looking at Harry like he was crazy. "Elle's not going to be able to come."  
  
Harry instantly looked up. "Why not?" he asked. He saw the look on Ron's face, and laughed. "Oh come on, I know it's not safe for her to come to the meetings, but we've been training for this since the summer before seventh year! Dumbledore can't possibly expect her to stay here alone, when fighting Voldemort is what she's been working her arse off for! We've all been working our arses off for it!"  
  
"Aside from our buttocks, you two didn't exactly pick the best time to have a child," Ron said to him, as calmly as he could. "There's no way Dumbledore's going to let her go, and you're daft for even thinking it! It's practically impossible for her to fight as it is! Not to mention, she’s getting pretty big…Do you really want her holed up in a cave, surrounded by giants?"  
  
"But Elle's strong, she can fight no matter what!" Harry said incredulously. "She'll be fine if she takes the concealment potion, and I'll make sure she doesn't get hurt."  
  
"Oh, don't be thick," Ron replied, rolling his eyes. "She could get hurt a million ways without you knowing it, and then you'd never forgive yourself! Face it, Harry- the only way she can be safe is if she stays here."  
  
Harry took a shaky breath, as the full impact of what this all meant finally washed over him. He knew Ron was right. Elle could barely last five minutes without using the toilet, let alone go to confront giants. Yet, at the same time, he didn’t feel right.  
  
"I can't leave her, Ron," he said, in a low, even tone. "We could be gone for weeks, even months. I can't be away from her for that long, especially not at a time like this. Leaving her alone every day just to go to work is hard enough!"  
  
"Harry, by the time we leave, the baby will still be…”  
  
“A little less than two months away,” Harry replied casually, as if he weren’t counting the days.   
  
“Right,” Ron said calmly. "I know you don't want to leave her, but I'm sure we won't be gone that long."  
  
Harry shook his head. It seemed like a long time to him.   
  
"I can’t, Ron," he said, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. "If fighting Voldemort means leaving Elle alone, then I won’t go. I'm not going to leave my wife for- for him. If he wants to kill me so bad, then he can come here and fight me himself." He took a deep breath. "I'll tell Dumbledore tonight," he said firmly. "And if not going means I have to quit the Order, then so be it."  
  
Ron gazed at him for a while, but then nodded slowly. "I don’t think staying here is the answer," he said finally. "But if it feels right to you, then you should do it. Come on; let's go back to your place. It's almost time to leave for Hogwarts."  
  
Harry nodded, and with a sigh, retrieved the Portkey from the inside of his jacket. 

 

* * *

 

"We're back!" Ron called loudly the second they landed in the living room.  
  
"Hey!" Elle said just as loudly, jumping up from where she was sitting on the couch next to Hermione. For a second, it almost looked as if Hermione had been crying, but Harry must have imagined it, because at a second glance she was standing up as well, wearing an uneasy smile.  
  
"Did you guys have fun?" Elle asked.  
  
Harry and Ron shared a look. "Loads," Harry answered.  
  
"Come, look what we did," Elle said, taking Harry's hand and dragging him into the second bedroom. She opened the door and waved her hand around the room.  
  
Harry spotted the medium-sized, midnight blue crib standing in the center of the room, and grinned, enjoying the peaceful feeling it gave him. The walls were a light beige, and Elle’s intricate, swirling designs were everywhere.  
  
"It's wonderful," he told her truthfully. "You two did a really good job on it." He held out a shopping bag and gave it to her. “Here, Ron got this for you while we were in Diagon Alley.”  
  
Elle took the bag and smiled at Ron. “Thanks Ron, you didn’t have to get me anything.” 

She reached inside and pulled out a baby mobile. Little broomsticks hung from suspended strings, and when Elle held it up, the brooms rotated in a slow circle. A light, tinkling melody played softly as the brooms spun around. Elle beamed in delight when she saw it, and Hermione bit her lip.  
  
“Wow,” Elle said happily, attaching the mobile to the top of the crib. “It’s amazing!”  
  
Ron shrugged in embarrassment, though he looked pleased with himself. “I thought it might inspire your child to become a future Quidditch player or something.”  
  
Elle laughed. "Thanks," she replied, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Then the smile dropped from her face, and she gave Harry a sad look. "Well, I guess you all have to leave for the meeting now, huh?" she said, looking gloomy.  
  
Harry rubbed his arms awkwardly. "Actually, why don't you two go on ahead without us?" he suggested to Ron and Hermione. "I need to talk to you," he told Elle.  
  
Elle swallowed. She knew from the look on Harry's face that whatever news he was about to tell her, it was not going to be good.  
  
"Fine," said Hermione briskly, taking out her own Portkey that led to the Room of Requirement. "Come on Ron, let's go." She threw one last look at Elle.  
  
"Talk to him!" Elle mouthed silently to Hermione, the same time Harry mouthed, "Talk to her!" to Ron.  
  
Harry and Elle both looked at each other quickly, and there was an awkward pause until Ron and Hermione finally touched the Portkey, and were swept from the room in a blur of color. The second they were gone, Harry gave Elle a questioning stare.  
  
"What does Hermione need to talk to Ron about?" he asked her.  
  
Elle sighed. "I shouldn't really be telling you this, but Hermione thinks that she and Ron should take some time off from being a couple. At least, for a little while."  
  
Harry covered his eyes with his hands and groaned. "Oh no," he whispered. Elle narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Why, what does Ron need to talk to Hermione about?" she asked quickly.  
  
Harry looked guilty. "Ron wanted to ask Hermione to marry him, but he said he wasn't sure because he doesn't know if that's what Hermione wants. So, I kind of told him to tell her tonight at the meeting."  
  
Elle's eyes widened. "Oh no! If Hermione tells Ron she wants to break up with him before he has a chance to speak, then it's going to break his heart! Harry, you have to hurry up and stop her before she tells him..."  
  
"Wait," Harry cut in. "There's something I need to tell you first."  
  
Elle took a quick breath. "Okay," she said delicately. "What is it?"  
  
Harry decided not to beat around the bush.

"Dumbledore wants the Order to head up to the mountains to try and convince the giants to help us fight Voldemort. If we can't convince them to join our side, then, most likely, we'll get attacked and have to fight back. Either way, after that we're going straight to Voldemort's hideout to attack him and his army."  
  
Elle stared at him silently for a few moments, processing this information, before nodding slowly.

"I see," she said quietly, looking down at the ground. "And when...?"  
  
"Saturday after next," Harry interrupted gravely.  
  
Elle looked taken aback, and sank slowly onto the couch. "Saturday after next?" she repeated weakly. "But that's...soon, isn't it?"  
  
Harry nodded. "But I'm not going," he said pointedly.  
  
Elle looked up, shocked. "What?" she asked in disbelief. "Why not?"  
  
Harry sighed. "Elle, we both know you're not going to be able to fight," he said heavily. "And I'm not going to leave you alone for…who knows how long…while I'm off battling giants and Death Eaters."  
  
Elle shook her head slowly, her eyes welling up. 

"Harry, you have to go," she whispered, her hands starting to shake. “Practice sessions are one thing, but you’re right…I’m not going to be able to fight outside of a safe environment.”

“Practice sessions?” Harry asked, in sudden confusion. “What do you mean?” 

Elle looked away guiltily. “Hermione’s been sort of…helping me keep up with sword fighting,” she muttered, twisting her hands together. “She worked with me today, before we did the baby’s room.”

Harry sighed, smothering his face with his hands. “I knew there was a reason the living room was cleared out,” he said darkly. He was going to have a serious talk with Hermione. “Elle how could you, you could have gotten hurt!”

“Exactly!” Elle exclaimed. “If I could get hurt in my own living room, imagine what could happen if I went with you! Harry, you have to go alone!”   
  
"No way!" Harry exclaimed, giving her a dubious stare. "Elle, there's no way I'm going without you! I can't leave you here all by yourself! For heaven’s sake, I could be gone for months! I might not even come back at all!"  
  
He realized he was shouting, and quickly shut his mouth. Tears were now streaming down Elle's face.  
  
"Harry," she said softly, her eyes and cheeks damp. "You _can't_  stay here just because of me. You're crazy for even considering it. This is what you've been training years for! The whole reason  _anybody_  has to go is because of you! What about the prophecy?"  
  
"I don't give a damn about the prophecy!" Harry yelled. "And you've been training just as hard as I have! You should be furious with me, it's my fault you can't go, I'm the one that got you pregnant!"  
  
"Harry, that was nobody's fault!" she shouted, her voice trembling. "It doesn't matter to anyone whether _I_  go or not, it all depends on  _you_! Without you Harry, none of them stand a chance!"  
  
Harry swallowed. He hadn't meant to get her this worked up. 

“You shouldn’t be shouting like that,” he said bitterly.  
  
Elle glared at him. “I’ll shout if I want to.”  
  
Harry took a deep breath, gazing at Elle. Without the concealment potion, she looked so fragile.

"I don’t care if it matters to anyone else. It matters to me," he said, in a quieter voice. "Elle...I can't leave you.”  
  
Elle stood up, and brushed his cheek with her hand. "Yes you can," she whispered to him. "It won't be for that long, and you'll make it through...I know you will."  
  
Harry shook his head. "I just don't think I can do it without you" he said, taking her hand that was caressing his face and holding it tightly in his.  
  
Elle took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. "You need to go, Harry," she told him seriously. "If you don't, I'll never forgive you."  
  
Harry stared into her eyes, and shivered slightly at her serious expression.  
  
"What about you?" he asked. "Are you...are you going to be okay by yourself?"  
  
"I'll manage," Elle said bracingly. "But I don't want you to worry about me."  
  
Harry knew this was not possible. "It's going to be torture, being away from you.”  
  
"I know," she sighed, and was almost on the verge of tears again, before she straightened up and cleared her throat. "Go to the meeting, and tell Dumbledore that you've agreed to help fight. Tell him that I'm going to stay here. He'll find some way to make sure I'm protected, I know it."  
  
Harry was now officially miserable. "Elle, I still don't know about this..."  
  
"I'll be fine," Elle said firmly, standing up straight and setting her jaw. "I'll just continue to sit around every day. You know, do what I'm good at." She took a steadying breath, and looked at Harry. The flow of tears had momentarily ebbed. "Just go, Harry. I'm afraid you don't have a choice."  
  
Harry nodded, and gave Elle one last, pleading look. But when it became obvious that her mind was made up, Harry relented.  
  
Seconds after he had disappeared from the flat, Elle sighed and sat back down, burying her face in her hands to hide the sudden, wretched sobs pouring out from under her eyes like a waterfall.

 

* * *

 

Harry entered the Room of Requirement that evening feeling like a huge weight had just been dumped upon his shoulders. He was in absolutely no mood to sword fight, but he knew there was no way he could go back home. He had to admit, he was a little shocked at Elle's reaction. Of course, he knew she wouldn't exactly be begging for him to stay, but to threaten to never forgive him if he didn't go?  
  
Even though everything she said had made sense, he didn't like hearing it. The Order  _was_  counting on him to be on their side, and to help...and wasn't that the whole point of joining in the first place? To help fight whenever the Order needed him? And it wasn't like it was Dumbledore's fault that the timing wasn't so great...the only person to blame for that was himself.  
  
"Hey Harry," Ginny called to him as he walked past her.  
  
Harry nodded. "Hey Ginny," he said dully.  
  
"Elle's still sick?" she asked, noticing that he had come alone once again.  
  
"Yeah," he said uneasily, trying to think of something else to say. "The Healers said she should get better soon, though. She's still really contagious for now."  
  
Ginny was looking worried. "Well, I hope she does get better soon, or else she won't be able to come when we leave for the attack!"  
  
Harry didn't say anything. "Hey, have you seen Ron?" he asked her tiredly, quickly remembering that Hermione was about to break up with him.  
  
Ginny frowned. "Yeah, I think he went to go talk to Hermione over there." She pointed to the far corner of the room, and Harry could see their silhouettes huddled close together, apparently deep in conversation.  
  
"Thanks," he said hurriedly to Ginny, and rushed over to try and interrupt their conversation before it got too intense.  
  
However, as he neared them, he could tell that he was too late. Hermione was already walking away from Ron, and Ron was left standing there by himself, looking lost and dejected. A perfect portrait of a poor bloke who had just been dumped.  
  
Harry slowed his pace and came to a stop, not knowing what to say.

"Ron?" he asked tentatively.  
  
Ron didn't say anything. All he did was look up at Harry, his expression dull and lifeless. Harry felt himself sigh with unhappiness for about the hundredth time that evening.  
  
"I'm so sorry, mate," he told him, feeling genuinely sympathetic. "What did she say?"  
  
Ron laughed vacantly, and shook his head. " She says she just needs some time to herself right now, to figure out where our relationship is heading...whatever that means." He stopped, looking upset.  
  
"Did you talk to her about, you know, that whole marriage thing?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Didn't get a chance," he replied. "Though it turns out I didn't need to. She obviously made it clear she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. She's going to move out and live with her parents for a while."  
  
Harry frowned. It didn't seem right for Hermione to be so cruel. Was it possible that Ron was overreacting?  
  
Ron swallowed hard and blinked, looking determinedly over Harry's shoulder. "Do you mind if I partner up with Neville for tonight?" he asked.  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah, no problem," he said quietly.  
  
As Ron headed towards Neville, Harry stared after him sadly for a few moments, until heading over to where Hermione was standing on the opposite side of the room. As he got closer, he could tell that she had small tears clinging to her eyelashes.   
  
When Harry approached, she looked apprehensive, and before he could say a word she blurted out, "I already know you're going to take Ron's side, so if you're going to yell at me, don't bother."  
  
"Relax," Harry told her quickly. "You're my friend, too. If I’m going to yell at you for anything, it’s for letting Elle talk you into helping her sword fight.”   
  
“What can I say, your wife is impossible,” Hermione sighed. She gave Harry a small, downtrodden smile. "I just want you to know that I didn't break up with Ron because I hate him or anything," she explained. "That's far from the point. I just need some time to..."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ron already told me," he interrupted. "Listen Hermione, I'm not going to get in the middle this time. This is between you and Ron. I'll listen, and I'll help out as best I can, but you two have to ultimately figure this out on your own."  
  
She raised her eyebrows, but didn't object. Harry continued.  
  
"I know you have a good reason for this. But I also think you should listen to Ron before you do anything else, like, too totally rash."  _Great, now I'm starting to sound like Elle_ , he thought fearfully. He cleared his throat. "Uh...you know what I mean?"  
  
Hermione looked confused. "Why, was there something he wanted to tell me?"  
  
It was now Harry's turn to raise his eyebrows at her.

"Yeah, you could say that," he responded evenly.  
  
Hermione remained calm. "Fine, I'll listen to him. But I'm warning you Harry, my mind can't be changed that easily."  
  
Harry laughed to himself. "I think I know that by now," he told her.  
  
Hermione laughed a little too, before shooting a quick look over at Ron. However, Ron seemed to be making it a personal mission of his not to glance over at the two of them, and so Hermione's stare went unnoticed. Hermione then focused her attention on Harry instead.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" she asked inquiringly. "You look pretty upset yourself. You know I would never let Elle practice with me if we weren’t being completely safe, right?”   
  
Harry shrugged, knowing full well that he was more than just upset.  
  
"I know; it’s not that. I tried to tell Elle that I wasn't going to go fight with the Order," he said, not caring to explain the matter in full detail.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. "But Harry, you have to go!" she exclaimed.  
  
"I know," Harry said heavily. "She basically told me that I had no choice, and that if I didn't go, she'd never forgive me."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Harry, I know it's going to be hard to leave her," she said gently. "But she can handle being alone, you know she can. And it would be too dangerous for her to fight in her condition." Hermione cleared her throat. “Outside of your home, that is.”   
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed dismally. "And I know that I ought to go."

He kicked at the ground bitterly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  
  
"I just wish I didn't have to.”   
  



	40. The Heartbreak- Part II

The next two weeks sailed by, but that didn't mean the time spent at home was at all pleasant. Instead, they were like hell for Harry, and he knew that Elle was suffering too.   
  
Oh, sure, she put on a brave face, and kept telling him how awesome he was going to fight and how she knew he'd “kick ass” once he got there, but it didn't make any difference. Harry still had no real desire to go, no heart in the fight.

At night, he could hear Elle sobbing silently in her sleep. Harry's nights were anything but peaceful; he found himself lying awake for hours, either grimacing from the ever-constant pain in his scar, or listening to Elle's heartbreaking cries.  
  
Though he tried desperately to get Elle to change her mind, he knew she would not budge. She was just as dead-set on him going as ever, and so acting on her orders, he visited with Dumbledore briefly after the meeting and told him that he planned on going with the Order to fight…and that Elle would be staying home alone.   
  
Dumbledore had confided to Harry that he had been unsure whether he would agree to come willingly, but he respected his decision and assured him it was the right one. He also said that once Harry left, he would make sure that Elle, for her safety, would have a St. Mungo's Healer come to check up on her about once a week.  
  
“Yes,” Harry insisted, after hearing this last bit. “Please, let her be kept safe. And have the Aurors reinforce the protection charms around our home immediately.”   
  
He expected Dumbledore to grow angry over this brash order, but Dumbledore nodded respectfully, as though he knew Harry would ask for nothing less.   
  
After sitting down and discussing this with Elle, she sighed, but simply said, "Whatever Dumbledore thinks is best." Harry detected only a small note of bitterness in her voice.  
  
To make matters worse, Hermione still hadn't warmed up to Ron, and she moved out of their flat. Ron was devastated, but he seemed to have taken up a new and immature rule of giving Hermione the silent treatment. Having Hermione and Ron not on speaking terms was a terribly awkward and disturbing experience for everyone, but it had happened before, and so Harry was used to it. He just wished that Ron would stop being so childish and tell Hermione that he wanted to marry her. Hermione was now living at her parent's house, and it didn't look like she was going to move back in with Ron anytime soon.  
  
Aside from the awkwardness, Harry had managed to inform both of them the plan for the Saturday after next. Dumbledore hadn't wanted to attract the eyes of any Death Eaters by using too much magic to travel, so they were going to visit the giants by journeying to the mountains on the Hogwarts Express. There had been questions on why they couldn't just Apparate or use brooms, but they were told that a huge group of wizards Apparating unexpectedly would alarm the giants and cause them to attack immediately, and that it was too far a distance to travel by brooms. Besides, brooms were far too noticeable, and some of the younger Order members had yet to pass their Apparition exams.  
  
So, on the Saturday they planned to leave, all of them were to meet at 9:00 in the morning at King’s Cross Station, where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting to whisk them away. Harry had told Hermione and Ron to meet at his place, so they could all say goodbye to Elle, and then they'd Floo over to Ron's place together and Apparate to King’s Cross Station from there. Of course, Hermione and Ron weren't happy about having to head over to the station together, but they agreed to do so anyway, which was the only thing Harry had to be thankful for.  
  
With all that decided, the Saturday Harry and Elle were both dreading came steadily towards them, arriving more quickly and suddenly then either would have liked. The night before had been simply disastrous; Elle had stayed up all night suffering from panic attacks, and Harry, trying his best to get at least some rest, was plagued by even more nightmares. By the time the early morning sun shone, Harry was already awake, lying on his back and reflecting on the last time he had woken up to a sunshine-filled Saturday. Needless to say, he felt no feelings of relief this morning.  
  
Turning over slowly, he looked down and realized that Elle was fast asleep. After night after night of crying, and tossing and turning, she now looked somewhat serene, with the steady rise and fall of her chest reminding Harry of a soothing, rhythmic chant. Harry didn't have the heart to wake her, though he wished with all his might that he could at least hold her and kiss her one last time.  
  
Settling for kissing her cheek softly, he got out of bed and dressed, mentally preparing himself for the long and grueling journey ahead, and wondering if he would ever make it back. Trying his best not to think about that, he tucked his wand safely into his rucksack and threw Elle one last, wistful glance.  
  
"Elle?" he ventured softly, not wanting to startle her. "Elle?"  
  
It did no good. After two or three times of trying, it was clear that Elle was in too deep of a sleep, and she did not wake up. Full of regret and guilt, Harry turned towards the door and grabbed the handle, turning it gently in his hand.  
  
"I'll be back," he whispered to Elle's sleeping figure, praying that in some way she could hear him. "I love you."  
  
Closing the door of their bedroom, he stepped out into the living room, only to find that Ron was already sitting on the couch.  
  
"Where's Elle?" he asked, standing up and rubbing his hands together anxiously.  
  
"Sleeping," Harry replied, looking down.  
  
"Don't worry mate, I'm sure she'll be fine," Ron said comfortingly, trying to make Harry feel better. It wasn't working too well. “She has a Healer looking after her, yeah?”  
  
"Yeah," Harry said vacantly.  
  
He heard someone knock sharply on the front door, and headed straight towards it, thankful for this minor interruption. Thrusting the heavy door open, he was momentarily stunned to see Hermione standing on his beaten-down doorstep.  
  
"Whoa, how did you get here?" he asked her, remembering that no one could Apparate within ten miles of their home, thanks to the security measures Dumbledore had set up for them.  
  
Hermione grinned. "I borrowed my parent's car," she said simply, waving the keys in Harry's face for emphasis. She walked past him and into the flat, and Harry shut the door.  
  
"You drive?" he asked, impressed. She nodded. "Since when?"  
  
She shrugged. "My parents taught me how the summer before sixth year," she explained. "That is, before I came to stay at Grimmauld Place." She turned around to face him. "Is it alright if I leave the car here?" she asked. "I'm sorry, but it was the fastest way I knew how to get here, since I couldn't Apparate and my parent's fireplace isn't wired to the Floo network."  
  
"No, it's okay," Harry told her, taking the keys from her and placing them safely on the counter.  
  
"Hi Ron," Hermione said, with forced friendliness, as she stepped into the living room.  
  
Ron nodded his head in acknowledgment, but didn't say a word. Hermione looked upset for a moment, but then turned to Harry again.  
  
"Does Elle know you're about to leave?" she asked, looking around to see if she could spot her.  
  
"She's sleeping," Harry replied. "She hasn't been able to sleep in so long, and I didn't think it was right to wake her."  
  
Hermione bit her lip. "I really do hope she's going to be okay."  
  
There was a moment of silence, until Ron decided to break it by walking over to the fireplace and grabbing the contents of Harry's Floo Powder supply bowl.  
  
"You're running low," he informed Harry, showing him the empty bowl.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Let's just go."  
  
Throwing one last look around the flat, he gathered every ounce of courage he owned and stepped toward the fireplace, praying that he wasn't about to make a huge mistake.

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, Elle awoke to an empty house with an unnerving jerk. For once, she had been having a peaceful sleep, but the sounds of chattering had interrupted her dreams, causing her to open her eyes in confusion. Sitting up in bed, she massaged her temples and tried to get her wits about her. Then, suddenly, it hit her. Today was the day Harry and the rest of the Order were leaving to confront the giants, and then make way for Voldemort's hideout.  
  
Throwing back the covers and jumping out of bed, she dashed into the living room, only to find that it was completely and utterly empty.  
  
"Harry!" she called, twirling around in a circle. "Hello? Anybody home?"  
  
No answer. She sighed, sudden depression hitting her over the head like a tidal wave. Why would Harry leave without even saying goodbye? What was wrong with him?  
  
After standing in the empty living room like an idiot for five minutes, Elle turned on her heel and walked to the bathroom, still in a bit of a daze after waking up to such a shock. Not that looking in the bathroom mirror made her feel any better. Trying not to stare at her reflection, and the body that forbade her from fighting a battle, she threw on a loose-fitting dress and downed a bottle of concealment potion. She hadn't used any in a while (there was no need, since she rarely left the house), but wanted to be ready in case Harry changed his mind and said she could come too…even though she knew that wasn’t likely.   
  
After another few minutes, she chanced a glance in the mirror once more, and was pleased to see that she now looked perfectly normal. However, she still felt heavy and sluggish. She could barely bend down to put on shoes, much less unsheathe a dagger.

Elle pulled her hair up into a ponytail and left the bathroom. Wandering over to the couch, she flopped onto it and, for lack of anything better to do, pointed a careless finger and flicked on the television.  
  
After flipping through countless channels of static, boring news stations, and the occasional Quidditch game, she finally settled on an old episode of The Real World. She lay there listening to it for a while, trying to evaluate her situation. Her husband was off fighting giants, Death Eaters, and an evil Dark Lord, while she stayed home like a loser, watching MTV. As fascinating as Carson Daly was, it still wasn't fair.  
  
Elle sighed. She knew she should be enjoying her last days of freedom, but she wanted to go and fight too. And, more importantly, she was dying to see Harry again...even if it was just for a few minutes. She still couldn't believe he had left without saying goodbye.  
  
“Think of the baby,” she reprimanded herself. “You can’t put yourself in danger, you can’t be selfish…”  
  
A sharp, demanding knock on the door shocked her out of her reverie. She shot right up and ran towards it as fast as her body would allow, her heart leaping with sudden joy. It had to be Harry coming to say goodbye, it just had to be, because if it wasn't, she was going to kick that sorry boy's ass so hard…  
  
"Draco!" she cried in unpleasant surprise, the second she had flung open the door.  
  
Her heart dropped all the way down to her knees, and she felt like crying. She had been so sure that it would be Harry. Then, her mind quickly rolled back into motion.  
  
"You...you...you're at my house!" she sputtered, too overcome with surprise to say anything more.  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "It appears I am," he responded. "Can I come in?"  
  
"No!" Elle exclaimed, getting ready to slam the door shut. Her heart was now beating unnaturally fast. What was he doing here? He wasn't supposed to be here! 

She unconsciously moved a hand to hide her stomach, and then remembered she had took the concealment potion, and commended herself on her instincts.   
  
"Sorry, but I'm not letting you in until I know what you want," she continued.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm here on Order business. I’m your Secret Keeper, so Dumbledore requested for me to visit and make sure Potter hadn't changed his mind about coming with us. Believe me, if it was my choice, I wouldn't be here at all."  
  
Elle blinked. "Dumbledore sent you to check up on Harry?" she asked in disbelief. “He really thought Harry was going to stay behind?”   
  
"Apparently," Draco replied lightly. "Looks like I’m the only one willing to force him to come without you. Anyway, I agreed, because everyone's been saying that you died or something, and I wanted to see for myself..." He stopped, and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "But it doesn't even seem like you're sick at all."  
  
Elle slammed a hand to her forehead.  _Oh, crap._  She had to think fast.  
  
"I am sick!" she cried hurriedly. She attempted a cough. "Yeah, really ill. I'm just on these amazing prescription drugs. It’s these muggle pills that I’m on, they’re…."  
  
"Well, you're definitely on something," Draco said, clearly not buying it. He took a step towards her and tried to shove his way past.  
  
"Where are you going, Harry already left!" Elle exclaimed, but it was no use. Draco was already inside, skimming the interior of the flat with a look of pure revulsion.  
  
"This place...is hideous," he remarked, examining the untidy furniture with a sneer. Elle crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"Speak for yourself," she muttered, eyeing him up and down with utter distaste. "Did you forget how to shower in the last five months since I've seen you? Because shampoo still exists, you know, unless you're going for the Snape look..."  
  
Draco turned to her, his eyes wide. "What, did you become the wizarding world's new Bitch of the Year, or something?" he asked, running a hand through his unkempt hair.  
  
Elle tiled her head. "Why do you ask, Malfoy?" she said sweetly. "Did you resign?"  
  
Draco smirked. "You better watch that sharp wit,  _Potter_ ," he muttered, turning around and staring towards another part of the house. "Or else..."  
  
Elle sighed. "Or else what?" she asked. But Draco didn't answer.  
  
Curious, Elle looked over to where he was staring, but when she saw what he was gazing at, her heart stopped.  
  
Shocked, Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked over at her, no longer smirking.  
  
Elle held her breath and stared fixedly at the floor.  
  
"What, exactly, is that baby's crib doing in your home?" he asked in a low, almost dangerous voice.  
  
Elle shuddered slightly at the coldness in his tone, but didn't respond. There was a long, awkward pause, and Elle could feel her face turning red.  _Why, why did Draco have to come here?_  
  
Swallowing hard, Elle summoned a bottle of her concealment potion from the bathroom. She held it up for Malfoy to see, and both shared a look, Elle confirming his thoughts.   
  
Draco let out a deep sigh and brushed past her towards the door, but Elle was too afraid to look up at him.  
  
"So, let me get this straight," he said loudly, inches away from the door. "This is why you haven't been coming to the meetings? This is why you’re not coming with us to fight?”  
  
Elle nodded slowly, and Draco snorted.  
  
"I see," he spat out. "So Potter knocks you up, and then leaves you here to twiddle your thumbs while he's out there risking his life and having all the fun? Forgive me, but that's not quite what I expected from you…the girl who always used to cause trouble, and shout her opinions in the middle of class."  
  
Elle didn't reply, though she could feel her eyes brimming with tears. What was she supposed to say?   
  
“How come you’re so mad?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.   
  
Malfoy was now red with anger.

“I’m not mad at  _you_ ,” he burst out with frustration. “It’s just…this is what I keep telling Ginny! Relationships are risky! They can tie you down, strip away your independence, and put you in danger!” He faced Elle. “I mean, do you realize how much danger you’re in? And you’re just going to sit here and let life pass you by?”  
  
Elle swallowed. “I’m staying to protect my family, not because I’ve become a doormat,” she retorted. “I don’t know what your issue is with Ginny, but leave my family and I out of it.”   
  
Malfoy scoffed, and she saw that he was scared. That Ginny wanted a relationship with him, and this was what he feared would happen if he agreed. It was completely ridiculous of course- Harry and Elle’s situation was unique.   
  
Elle did know one thing, though...Malfoy was right; she wasn't the type of girl to sit and do nothing when there was something she wanted. And right now, she wanted to talk to Harry before he left. She didn't even care how Draco had gotten here- she just wanted him gone, so she could figure out a way to get to King’s Cross Station within the next few minutes.  
  
Of course, it was just her luck that all the Floo Powder was gone, and she couldn't Apparate from here. Now what was she going to do? But suddenly, a set of car keys caught her eye, and she instantly snatched them up from the kitchen counter.  
  
"Whom do these keys belong to?" she asked loudly, her mind beginning to race again. An idea was already forming inside her head, though she was starting to wonder if she was going a little insane.  
  
Draco shrugged. "They're not mine," he said, breathing to calm himself down. "But there's a car parked in front of your house."  
  
Elle shoved her feet into some flip-flops and ran outside, holding the keys tightly in her hand. To her amazement, there  _was_  a car parked outside. A small, white car. Elle was shocked. They didn't have any neighbors, so whose car could it possibly be?  
  
Chewing on her lip, she unlocked the driver's side door and hopped in, cautiously looking around and examining the gears. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to properly work any of them.  
  
Draco walked outside and came over to the car, a new look of alarm now on his face.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you planning on doing?" he asked.  
  
Elle swallowed, her face resolute. "Get in," she demanded. “This knocked-up, thumb-twiddler is going to drive.”   
  
Draco's eyes practically popped right out of his skull. "What?" he managed to get out, flabbergasted.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. She didn't have time for this.  
  
"I'm driving to King’s Cross Station, now are you going to get in the damn car, or not?" she asked, narrowing her eyes daringly at Draco.  
  
Draco opened and closed his mouth several times, looking quite like a fish flopping around on dry land.

"Do you know how to drive?" he asked arrogantly.  
  
Elle hesitated. "Well, sort of..." she muttered, ignoring the outraged look on Draco's face. "Ally tried to teach me once, and I've watched my cousin do it. If my friend Ally can drive then believe me, anyone can." She looked up at him. "Besides, how hard can it be?" she asked, trying to sound confident.  
  
Draco gave a sigh and reluctantly opened the passenger side door. Elle had to admit that in any other situation, this would have been outrageously hilarious. She doubted Draco had ever stepped foot in a car before, but it wasn't like they had any other choice.  
  
As Draco got all the way in and closed the door, Elle gave him an inquiring stare.

"How did  _you_  get here, anyway?" she asked, biting her lip.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Knight Bus," he muttered. "Don’t worry, they dropped me off blocks away and I walked to your house; your secret is still safe. But you've got to be crazy if you think I'm getting on that thing ever again."  
  
Elle took a deep breath and shut the door, immediately inserting the key and starting up the ignition. The car instantly came to life, sputtering and vibrating menacingly. Elle closed her eyes, and tried to gather every ounce of knowledge she had ever learned about cars. Which, unfortunately, wasn't very much.  
  
Opening her eyes again, she looked out at the empty road ahead of her, knowing that what she was about to do was extremely dangerous. But, it was a risk she was willing to take. Not to mention, the fact that she hadn't been out of the house in so long didn't help to make her think rationally. The fresh air was tantalizing.   
  
Elle put her foot down on the brake and, praying that the vehicle was an automatic, turned the car from 'park' into 'drive'. The car started vibrating even more, but stayed put. Draco looked over at her, a bit apprehensive.  
  
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked her.  
  
Elle bit down on the inside of her cheeks.

"I'd buckle your seat belt if I were you," she told him seriously, before easing her foot off the break and gently pressing down on the accelerator. The car jerked forward with more power than she had thought possible, and Elle screamed, before removing her foot and slamming it down on the brakes once more. The car stopped.  
  
Elle threw Draco an apologetic look. "Sorry," she said. "That was just a practice test."  
  
Draco closed his eyes. "I must be losing my mind, getting into a car with you," he muttered to himself.  
  
Elle ignored him, and tested the accelerator once more. The car bounced forward, but this time Elle was expecting it, and she gripped the steering wheel tightly.   
  
Gathering up all her concentration and courage, she prayed for her powers to somehow help her maneuver this automobile and get them safely to King’s Cross Station without any accidents. Whispering silently and pointing a finger, she cast a protection spell around the steering wheel, wishing that it would help to avoid any crashes.   
  
Easing the car ungracefully out onto moving traffic, she willed herself not to get too intimidated. After a while, she got enough nerve to push on the accelerator a little harder, and the car flew past all the others, swerving in and out of traffic, and narrowly escaping a line of trees along the side of the road.  
  
"Watch it!" Draco shouted at her, as somebody in a huge truck honked noisily at them from behind. "This isn't America!" he shouted at her again a few seconds later, as five other cars honked their horns as well, and sped past them angrily. "Drive on the left side of the road!"  
  
"Oh yeah," Elle said absentmindedly, flinging the steering wheel in the opposite direction. Draco quickly grabbed onto the dashboard, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"Figures," he muttered, "You're the one who’s pregnant, and I'm the one about to be sick."   
  
After she was finally in the correct lane, she managed to miss crashing into anything else, and sailed on past the streets of London. Maybe it was just her imagination, but after driving for another couple of minutes, she felt like she was getting the hang of it. Draco, on the other hand, was shaking his head and grumbling to himself the whole time.  
  
"Never again," she heard him mutter. "Dumbledore can get somebody else to follow his damn orders..."  
  
"Oh, would you just shut up?" Elle asked, annoyed. "I'm doing the best I can. Besides, you should be thanking me for the lift."  
  
"We haven't arrived yet," Draco said darkly. "We might not make it in one piece."  
  
Draco stared at the cars whipping past them, wishing that Elle could just keep the car in a straight line, instead of swaying back and forth.   
  
"I just can't believe you're going to have a child," he said out of the blue, still staring out the window.  
  
Elle sighed, but tried her hardest to keep her concentration. "Why so surprised?" she asked. "Didn't think I'd do anything that would put an end to my bikini-wearing days?"  
  
Draco didn't pay attention to her blunt comment. "That," he replied. "And the fact that, well, you don't strike me as the motherly type. You're more of a..."  
  
Elle couldn't wait to hear this. "More of a what?" she questioned, unconsciously increasing her speed and accidentally driving through a red light.  
  
Draco looked at her sideways. "A free spirit," he responded. "Don't you ever think about all the things you could have done in life, and how now you’re just going to waste away? Kids will suck the life out of you.”  
  
Elle swallowed. "I did think about that," she admitted. "But then I figured out that sometimes you have to make sacrifices. I can still do all the things that I want...but right now, I kind of want a family more.”  
  
Draco shook his head. "I think you're making a big mistake," he said flatly.  
  
Elle gripped the steering wheel harder. "Well, thankfully Draco, that decision is not yours to make," she said. "And you’re crazy for denying Ginny a chance at a relationship just because it could be dangerous.”   
  
"I’m not crazy,” he said slowly. “I’m looking out for her. Love is weakness.”  
  
“No,” Elle replied. “Love is strength. And having a family only makes it stronger.”   
  
Elle swung the car around the corner, and Draco could see the faint outline of the train station not too far off. He sighed thankfully, placing a hand over his chest. Just a few more feet, and they had made it.  
  
Elle revved the engine and drove faster and faster, until she barged right through the King’s Cross Parking lot and headed straight for the first open parking space she saw. Her eyes fell on one right near the front and she sped towards it, the tires squealing so loudly that it caused everyone standing in front of the platform to look their way, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
  
"Hey," Hermione said suddenly, shading her eyes and peering at the little car zooming towards them. "Isn't that Elle?" Her eyes widened. "Oh. My. God. She...she's driving my parents’ car."  
  
Practically the whole Order watched in silence as Elle messily pulled into the front row parking space and slammed on the brakes, simultaneously putting the car in park and pulling the keys out of the ignition.  _Not bad_ , she thought to herself.  _Rock star parking._  
  
Taking the keys with her, she got out of the car and slammed the door shut, practically running towards the spot where everyone stood in front of the barrier for Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Besides them, the entire station was packed with muggles, so she earned quite a few odd stares as she dashed past them, heading for Harry.   
  
Draco followed at a slower pace, sauntering towards the platform.  
  
"Next time," he told himself. "I'm definitely taking the Knight Bus."  
  
Harry rushed to meet Elle, with Ron and Hermione right behind him. He knew that Neville, along with Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, Cho, Dean, Seamus, and the entire Order were all watching him intently, but he didn't care.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he asked quickly, a thousand questions running through his mind. "Are you alright?"   
  
"I had to come see you one last time before you left," she said breathlessly, throwing her arms around him. "I cannot believe you left without saying goodbye! Oh, and Malfoy needed a ride."  
  
Harry held onto her tightly. "I didn't want to wake you," he said sincerely. "Besides," he added, cupping her face with his hands. "I knew that if I saw you cry again, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to leave."  
  
Elle's eyes looked glassy, but she regained her composure. "I'm not going to cry," she whispered, gazing at him. She could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes all watching them, and she knew that most of them were wondering what was going on, and why she wasn't coming along. Ron was watching them with a strange look on his face.  
  
"What were you doing with Malfoy?" Ron asked, shooting Draco a dirty look.  
  
"He said that Dumbledore sent him to our house to see if Harry was still going," Elle replied, not tearing her gaze away from Harry. She paused for a moment, and her heart began pounding again as she was struck with a new realization.  
  
"Harry," she said urgently, her green eyes growing wide. "Draco...I mean Malfoy...he knows."  
  
Harry stared at her fearfully. "Knows?" he repeated, disbelievingly. "About the baby?"  
  
Elle nodded, and Harry closed his eyes regretfully. Malfoy knowing their secret was not good, not good at all. Hermione cleared her throat, and Elle looked up at her.  
  
"Elle," Hermione started cautiously. "How exactly did you manage to drive my car all the way here from your flat?"  
  
Elle stared. "You mean that was  _your_  car?"  
  
Hermione nodded, and Elle shrugged.  
  
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I guess I wasn't really thinking straight. I'm really sorry, but I didn't cause any damage to it, I promise. Plus, I may or may not have used a little magic."  
  
"Harry," Dean said suddenly, coming up behind them. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's time to go, mate. Dumbledore and the Order are already on the train, and we're getting ready to leave." He noticed Elle, and raised his eyebrows at her. "You’re coming?" he asked.  
  
Elle shook her head in disappointment. "I can't," she told him, in a mournful tone. "I'm sorry."  
  
Dean gave her a sympathetic smile. "Well, it’s good to see you," he said.  
  
Elle smiled a sad smile, and Ron and Hermione both turned towards her.  
  
"Goodbye," Elle told them quietly, flinging her arms gently around their necks one at a time. Suddenly, the only thing she wanted to do was burst into tears. What if something went wrong with their mission, and she never saw them again?  
  
After letting go, she looked at them tearfully. "Promise me that you guys will be careful," she said, her lip beginning to quiver.  
  
Hermione gave Ron a miniature glance, but he didn't look at her.  
  
"We will," Hermione told her, squeezing Elle's hand. "We'll probably see you again in a few weeks, tops."  
  
"Definitely," Ron agreed, though he was still avoiding Hermione's gaze.  
  
Elle sighed and looked down, hoping and praying that what Hermione said would be true. After a few moments of silence Ron told Harry that he'd meet him on the train, and left with Dean. Hermione followed a few seconds after, leaving Harry and Elle by themselves in front of the barrier.   
  
Elle blinked and looked up at Harry, stifling a sob.  
  
"You better get going," she whispered, her voice trembling more so than ever. "You don't want them leaving without you."  
  
Harry gave her a tiny grin. "Wait," he said, reaching for the small bag he was carrying. "I have something for you."  
  
Elle looked confused. "For me?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied, taking out a small, wrapped package and handing it to her. "I picked it up on the way here. I was planning on giving it to you as a homecoming present, but now that you're here..."  
  
Elle sighed, and grudgingly opened the package. "It better not be something romantic or anything like that, because if it is I'll..." Her eyes widened as the paper fell away. "No way! You didn't!"  
  
Harry laughed. "I hope it puts a smile on your face, at least for some of the days that I'm away. And hopefully our child won't inherit your awful taste in music."  
  
Elle gave him a watery grin as she flipped over and examined the three music CDs Harry had given her. "Nsync? Backstreet Boys? The Spice Girls?!" She smiled and threw her arms around Harry again. "I think I love you."  
  
Harry grinned and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her close, he wished they could stay like that forever, but now Harry realized that maybe leaving her to fight was for the best after all. Even though saying goodbye was killing him, what he wanted most in the world was for her to be protected. And Ron was right- the only way he could guarantee her safety and the safety of his child was if he left her here.  
  
Harry bent down, and touched his lips to Elle's. As they kissed, Harry could feel the dampness from her tears, and by the time he drew away Elle's face was practically bathed in salty streaks.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, letting go of Harry and looking down. "I know I promised not to cry, it's just..." (she paused for a moment to sniffle), "it's so hard letting you go, and not knowing when I'm going to see you again."  
  
"I know," Harry whispered. "But I  _will_ be back."  
  
"You better be," she murmured.   
  
Harry laughed softly. "You know, I'm going to have to explain to a lot of curious people on the train why you showed up looking totally healthy, and still aren't coming."  
  
"So then just tell them the truth," Elle said firmly. "Malfoy's probably going to tell everyone anyway. He got really worked up, for some reason. And even if you don't tell them, they'll find out in a few months."  
  
Harry grinned as best as he could. "That soon, huh?"  
  
Elle nodded grimly.

"Ready or not," she whispered, taking his hand and pressing it to her stomach for the briefest of moments. Harry closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the invisible flutters that answered his touch, before letting go.   
  
"I love you," he said to her, for the second time that morning.  
  
"I love you too," Elle said back to him. She reached up and gave him one last kiss. "See you later."  
  
Harry smiled, though he felt as though his heart was being torn apart.

"See you," he echoed softly. He handed her a portkey from the inside of his jacket. "Here, take the portkey home," he offered generously.  
  
"Thanks," Elle said. She had been dreading driving the car again.  
  
Harry gave her one final grin, and then turned away.  
  
Elle held what felt like her last breath and stood there, planning to call out his name one more time before he could travel through the platform, but she must have blinked, because a split second later he had completely disappeared, and all that remained in front of her was a lone, seemingly solid, brick wall.  
  



	41. Unfinished Business

Staring in despair out of the window of the Hogwarts Express, Harry found himself barely paying attention to the countless fields they were speeding past, or to the dark, dreary clouds that had slowly emerged in the sky. All he could think about was Elle, and how with each passing moment he was leaving her farther and farther behind.  
  
He sighed, burying his face in his hands, trying to block out the world. Usually he enjoyed traveling on this train, seeing as how the journey almost always ended back at Hogwarts. But this time, he wanted nothing more than to escape through the windows and land on the soft, green grass of the London countryside. He was dreading the moment when he gazed out the window and, instead of facing peaceful meadows and fields, would be looking out upon majestic mountains that contained the monstrous beasts they were soon to face.  
  
Turning away from the window, Harry glanced around at the others sharing his compartment. The train was a lot less crowded than usual, but that didn't mean he, Ron, and Hermione had managed to get a compartment all to themselves. It seemed as if all their fellow Order members preferred to stay together in one, crowded compartment rather than be scattered throughout the train, brooding in silence during the journey. The door was open, and those who hadn’t grabbed a seat or floor space were spilling out into the corridor.  
  
Of course, Harry would rather have been left alone, but he figured the longer he and everybody else stuck together, the better. Besides, he knew that Dumbledore was concerned for him, and wouldn't want him to be alone. He would never forget the look on Dumbledore's face once he boarded the train. It was a look of sympathy, but Harry couldn't figure out whether it was because he knew what Harry was about to face...or because he knew what Harry had to leave behind.  
  
Besides Ron and Hermione (who were being careful not to sit too close to each other), he was also sharing a compartment with Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Neville, Luna, and Parvati. The others were all on the floor chatting, but Harry could tell that they kept shooting him questioning looks. Any minute now, someone was going to ask him why Elle hadn't come, and why he had been lying about her illness.   
  
He groaned inwardly, remembering that Malfoy had learned the truth, and prayed that the bloody idiot had enough sense to keep his mouth shut.  
  
Looking away from the group again, he tried to ignore their agonizing looks and instead focused on clearing his mind, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming task at hand. He had to try his best to remain calm.  
  
This proved to be very difficult, considering what happened next.  
  
The compartment door flew open, and Ginny stood outside of it, her red hair flying about in all directions. Since she and Luna were still attending Hogwarts, Dumbledore had excused them from their classes so they could come and help fight. Now, everybody stopped what he or she was doing to look up at her, but her gaze was situated on Harry, and he knew before she even opened her mouth what she was going to say.  
  
Harry stupidly realized that he should have seen this coming. Of course, Malfoy would have told Ginny straight away - she seemed to be the only person he confided in.  
  
"Harry, is it true about Elle?" she asked expectantly. "Draco's just told me that..."  
  
"Ginny!" Ron piped up quickly from his position on the floor, trying to get her attention.  
  
Ginny spun around to stare at him, confused, and then a split second later she seemed to realize that maybe shouting out the news was not such a good idea. She got the answer to her question, however.  
  
"Wow, so it is true then!" she murmured to herself, under her breath.  
  
By now, the inquisitive looks on everyone's faces were too much for Harry to handle, and he knew that it was too late. There was no way he was going to get out of this without having to give a full-fledged explanation.   
  
_Damn Malfoy._  He was going to kill that little git the second he got his hands on him...  
  
"What's true?" Lavender asked curiously, looking up at Harry. Parvati shot him a sharp look.  
  
"Yeah, what's this about Elle?" Seamus asked, also averting his eyes to look at Harry, and wearing the appearance of someone expecting an immediate answer.  
  
Harry hesitated a second too long, and Ginny gave him a look of surprise.  
  
"I don't see why you'd want to hide it from us," she said to him sternly. "Anyway, everyone already knows."  
  
"What?" Harry asked, confused. "You guys know...?"  
  
"Well, we kind of suspected it," Lavender admitted, though she still looked like Aunt Petunia did just before getting her hands on an especially juicy piece of gossip. "Were you planning on waiting another couple of months and then telling us she made a miraculous recovery? Come on Harry, you guys are married...it wasn't hard to put the pieces together."  
  
"Well, uh...I guess," Harry replied, though he couldn't help feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. Ginny grinned at him.  
  
"Don't worry," she told him. "We're not going to tell Voldemort.” A shudder ran through the compartment.   
  
"Yeah," Dean said, nodding his head. "Your secret is safe with us."  
  
"Congratulations, Harry," Neville murmured quietly, as if he didn't quite know what else to say.  
  
"Yeah, congrats," Seamus echoed.  
  
The others continued to murmur assents of congratulations. Only Parvati seemed to think the confirmation of this news was a big deal.  
  
"Of course! I knew she looked fatter the second I saw her!" she hissed in a loud, carrying whisper. "But then again, that girl was always on the chubby side."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth furiously.  
  
"Oh my God!" Parvati continued, leaning in closer to Lavender (though Harry could still hear her perfectly). "I'll bet you she got knocked up on purpose, just so she wouldn’t have to come and fight. That, or she’s lying.”  
  
Lavender winced, shooting Harry a furtive look.   
  
Harry jumped to his feet, his eyes flashing in anger. He wished more than anything that Parvati would shut up. 

“We’re not lying,” Harry said, almost menacingly. “I can prove it, look…” 

He rummaged through his rucksack, looking for something. The others leaned over curiously. Parvati was frowning. 

“How does he think he can prove…oh,” she said slowly, as Harry turned back around. 

Harry looked at his friends, and then held up the picture they had gotten at Elle’s most recent ultrasound. The image was grainy, but it was clearly a baby, and the picture was moving. Harry gripped the edges of the photograph as though it were the most precious thing on earth; the girls in the compartment all squealed, and the boys murmured soft “wows.”

Parvati rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry wasn’t really the father,” she muttered to Lavender.

Harry was just about to open his mouth to spit something nasty back at her, when Ginny cut in.  
  
"I'm really happy for you, Harry," she said kindly. "You must be really excited. I can't believe you're going to be a dad."  
  
Harry closed his mouth and nodded. Everybody was still looking at him expectantly, as if they were waiting for an explanation. Harry sighed, and lowered the picture.  
  
"I'm sorry for not telling you all earlier," he said to them, looking anywhere but at Parvati. "But Dumbledore made us swear not to tell anyone; we couldn't risk the news leaking to the press and, of course, having Voldemort find out. So, the only way we could keep it hidden was if I told you all that she was sick," Harry continued.  
  
Lavender shook her head. "But on the platform, she didn't look like she was..."  
  
"It was the work of a Concealment potion," Hermione supplied, before Lavender even finished her sentence.  
  
"You knew about this the whole time?" Dean asked Hermione incredulously.  
  
"Well, I told Ron and Hermione of course," Harry stated exasperatedly. "But that was before we learned we had to keep it a secret."  
  
"But then, how did Malfoy find out?" Luna asked curiously, the only sign that she had been listening to this conversation at all.  
  
"Because he went to their flat, and saw the crib," Ginny answered quickly for Harry. She then turned around to face him again. "I can't imagine what you must be going through Harry, having to leave Elle all alone," she told him sympathetically. "And what Elle must be feeling! I'd hate to be in her shoes right now."  
  
Harry swallowed hard and looked down at the ground, his heart breaking at the reminder.  
  
"But...you two are still so young," Lavender said, twisting her hands around in her lap.  
  
Harry nodded. "I know," he agreed indifferently. "We are." 

“Is it a boy or girl?” Neville asked, his eyes round.

Harry shrugged. “We haven’t found out.”  
  
Seamus tilted his head to the side. "Oh, so  _this_  is why you two got married so suddenly!" he remarked, the false realization dawning on him. Harry's eyes narrowed darkly.  
  
"No, of course that's not why we got married," he replied bitterly, through clenched teeth. "We got married because we wanted to, not because we had to."  
  
Seamus looked taken aback. "Hey mate, I didn't mean it like that..."  
  
"It's okay," Harry said, shaking his head. He hadn't meant to get so defensive, but he was feeling a little overwhelmed. He didn't appreciate everyone knowing about his private business, and he especially didn't appreciate Parvati making fun of Elle and calling her names behind her back. Exactly who the  _hell_  did that girl think she was?  
  
"Come on, guys," Ron piped up, saving Harry from having to answer any more questions. "Let's leave him alone for a bit, he's got enough on his mind as it is."  
  
Harry threw Ron a thankful look. There was a slight murmuring amongst the others, but soon everyone finally turned away from Harry and immersed themselves into a deep discussion.   
  
Harry sank back down onto the seat, allowing himself to become lost in his own thoughts once more. He propped the ultrasound image up on the windowsill and stared at it, desperately awaiting the end of the journey.

 

* * *

 

The imminent sound of the doorbell was enough to break through the barrier of Elle's concentration. She had been immersed in her book, having spent the last few hours reading.   
  
She got off the bed, her feet padding silently across the floor to the front door. She had been in the middle of  _Peter Pan_ , trying to lose herself in the fantasy world and pretend like she was just an average teenager without a care in the world. These days her luck seemed to be dwindling more and more with each passing second; the only way she could console herself was by selecting the fairytales she planned to read to her child every night- just as her mother had done for her.   
  
Trying to ignore the thought that Harry was now onboard the Hogwarts Express, traveling miles and miles away, she took a deep breath and opened the door.  
  
She had to admit, she was a little surprised. Standing on her doorstep was a short, plump, soft-featured woman who appeared to be in her early forties. She had on clean white robes, but the nametag embroidered in the upper left hand corner of the robes bore an unmistakable emblem of a bone crossed with a wand.  
  
Elle groaned inwardly. This must be the Healer from St. Mungo's. She really didn't see why she needed somebody to come look after her; she was perfectly fine on her own.   
  
She sighed. Hopefully this wouldn't take long, and Elle would be able to get rid of her quickly.  
  
"Hi," Elle smiled tiredly at the woman, trying her hardest to appear polite. "Can I help you?"  
  
The woman looked up at her, and Elle could detect a mild look of shock on her face. However, the stunned expression was quickly covered by a warm smile.  
  
"Hello, dear," she said, in a smooth, buttery voice. "I'm from St. Mungo's, and I'm here on a request from Albus Dumbledore. I got the address from a Mr. Draco Malfoy. Is Mrs. Potter here, by any chance?"  
  
Elle sighed again, but she held out her hand.

"You can call me Elle," she said tightly.  
  
The woman blinked, but took Elle's hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Abertha Donovan," she introduced herself kindly. She let her hand drop back down to her side, and gave Elle the once over. "My, my," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Forgive me, I wasn't aware that you were so young! Why, you don't look a day over sixteen!"  
  
Elle swallowed, and tried to appear casual. "Thanks," she said, racking her brain for something appropriate to say. "I'm actually eighteen." She gave the woman a hesitant smile. "Would you like to come in?"  
  
As they stepped over the threshold and into the house, Elle felt a hot, red flush creeping up the back of her neck and spreading over her face. She realized she should have tidied up the flat a little bit, but really, what was the point? True, it wasn't nearly as bad as it was when they first moved in, but even after all the work her and Harry had done, it was still far from perfect.  
  
She stood off to the side and cleared her throat, wondering what the woman was going to do next.  
  
"Um, would you like to sit down?" Elle asked tentatively, remembering her manners. Once the lady's head was turned, she hastily kicked a few dirty clothes under the rug.   
  
The lady sat on the couch, folding up her arms neatly and tucking her hands on top of her legs. Elle sat too, Indian-style, with her legs crossed lopsidedly underneath her.  
  
The woman turned to her, still wearing a pleasant expression. "So...Elle," the woman said lightly. "You and your husband are expecting your first child."  
  
Elle nodded, knowing that the woman knew full well who her husband was.   
  
"Yes," she answered, a bit nervously. "And he would be with us right now, but of course there's this whole thing with him and Lord Voldemort that he needs to take care of, so he and everyone else I know had to run off to go and fight him, and now I'm stuck here all by myself, and..." She stopped, quickly realizing that she had said way too much. "Not that I'm complaining or anything!" she told the lady hurriedly. "But, you know, I just really wish I had somebody here with me, because I hate being alone and I don't know what to do, and, and..."  
  
She realized she was talking too much again, and clamped a hand over her mouth to shut herself up. The woman was looking at her, and though she had winced, she didn't seem too concerned about the Voldemort statement. Instead, she looked more concerned for Elle.  
  
"My goodness," she said softly. "How terrible for you, my dear. Having to stay here all alone while being, what, almost eight months along?"  
  
Elle nodded, and rolled her eyes for emphasis, happy at least that the lady was sympathizing with her. "Yeah," she agreed. "It totally sucks."  
  
The woman gave her a smile. "Don't you worry, dear," she said, in a comforting manner. "I know to you, this may seem like a drag, but I promise I will help you the best I can while your husband is away, and I'll be here for you to call on whenever you need me. You won't have to go through this alone."  
  
Now Elle was shocked, but ended up breaking into a sincere smile. "Thank you," she replied, a bit overwhelmed. "I...I appreciate it."  
  
Healer Donovan nodded. "Now," she said, in the same smooth, silky tone she had used earlier while introducing herself. "I understand that you are quite young for a soon-to-be mother, but nevertheless, I am here to do weekly check-ups and instruct you on proper ways to care for a newborn. I have all the equipment we need, but before we begin, do you have any concerns for me?” 

Elle sighed. “Yeah, I have a concern,” she said bluntly. “Birth.”

Healer Donovan blinked. “Birth?” she repeated, and she almost looked like she wanted to laugh. “What part concerns you, the potential complications, the various procedures, or the pain?”

Elle couldn’t help it, and laughed too. “All three,” she admitted. She hadn’t told anyone else, but she was super scared over the thought of giving birth. Who wouldn’t be? Hermione’s book had been full of cautionary tales and experiences of extreme pain. The whole thing seemed barbaric, and she didn't want to sit and listen to this woman explain it in more detail. She just wanted to skip to the part where the child was in her arms. 

As Elle continued to voice her concerns, the Healer help up her hand to silence her.

“I’m not going to say it will be easy,” she said, glancing at the book that Elle was referencing. “But dear, that book was written by a man. All the scenarios you’re imagining, which sound like they come from movies and television shows, were practically all written by men. We’re going to work together on creating a drama-free plan, and you can focus solely on delivering a healthy baby.”

Elle smiled, suddenly feeling loads better. She was happy to have a Healer who knew about muggle entertainment, and was clearly a feminist. This was the one moment in her life where she didn’t want any more attention or dramatics than was necessary.  
  
As the midwife went on to describe birth plans and pain management, Elle focused her attention on the Healer’s physical features.   
  
Abertha was an older woman, yet she was still free of the usual wrinkles and blemishes that accompanied old age. Her short, conservative dark brown hair was streaked with gray, but other than that, she had a cheery, youthful expression. The thing that Elle found herself staring at the most was her eyes- the woman had very enigmatic, sparkling hazel eyes that didn’t seem to give off the slightest hint of her age. They were kind eyes, and it was this feature that put her the most at ease.   
  
Elle tilted her head to the side, an idea forming in her mind. She realized that what she was considering might seem a little childish. Yet, she was in desperate need of distractions and normalcy. And this woman had agreed to help her, so she'd probably let her if she asked nicely.  
  
"Um, Healer Donovan?" she ventured timidly, interrupting the woman out of her lecture.  
  
The lady quickly stopped talking and looked at her, as if she were utterly astounded to find that Elle was not paying full and complete attention.

"Yes, dear?" she asked patiently. "Did you have a question?"  
  
Elle shrugged. "I just thought you should know that you have really pretty eyes," she told her simply, wearing a small smile.  
  
The lady opened her mouth in surprise, before straightening up her uniform and returning Elle's smile. "Why, thank you child," she said, sounding sincere. "How very kind of you." She cleared her throat, clearing wanting to get back to business. "Now, as I was saying..."  
  
Elle leaned forward a little and grabbed the lady's hands, stopping her flow of speech once more. "Can I give you a makeover?" she asked, sounding a bit anxious.  
  
Healer Donovan blinked several times. "A- a makeover?" she repeated blandly, as if she had never heard the term before.  
  
Elle nodded her head eagerly. "Yeah," she replied. "It'll be fun! I can do your hair, and I have some makeup that I'm sure will look great on you!"  
  
Healer Donovan looked at her oddly. "That sounds nice, dear. But I  _am_  supposed to be teaching you on how to be a good mother, as well as perform a medical check-up to make sure that you and your baby are healthy, how to nurse, change a diaper..."  
  
"You can still do the check-up," Elle promised earnestly. "I want to make sure my baby is healthy too. And I want to learn all that I can. Harry and I have been practicing how to change diapers, and we haven’t missed a Healer appointment yet.”  
  
The Healer blinked, surprised at the sudden serious tone of Elle’s voice. Elle noticed this and grinned to herself; she wanted any doubt about her wishes to be a good mother washed away.  
  
“Please, Healer Donovan," she begged, as though she had known the woman for years. "You did promise to help me. Trust me, this will help me more than anything. I…I need to feel normal. Just for a little bit. I think it would be best for me and the baby if I stopped thinking of, you know…what Harry is about to face.”  
  
The woman sighed, plainly thinking that this couldn't be a good idea, but that this was something that was really important to her patient.   
  
"Alright," she obliged. "But let's make it quick, shall we?”  
  
Elle squealed with excitement. "Thank you so much, Healer Donovan!”  
  
She scooted off the couch, and went to go retrieve her tiny stash of makeup in the bedroom. 

"Besides, by the time I'm done, this makeover will have been more than worth it!" she called excitedly over her shoulder.  
  
The woman sighed again, but smiled lightly. Obviously, this girl needed not only a nurse, but a shrink as well.

 

* * *

 

Harry awoke with an unpleasant jerk as he felt the smooth progress of the train come to an unexpected, shuddering halt. Stretching his arms, he lifted his head up from where he had been resting against the windowsill and gazed around the compartment with bleary eyes.  
  
It had taken an enormous amount of time to reach the edge of the mountains. In his dreams, he had pictured the Hogwarts Express as some sort of mysterious, dark animal snaking its way up through the countryside and towards the mountains.  
  
Now, as he peered through the glass, he found that night had fallen. But, instead of gazing up at the heavens and finding stars winking back at him, he found that the entire night sky was entirely black, as if a large dark velvet sheet had been draped across it, blocking out any sign of stars and even the glowing warmth of the moon.  
  
As he departed the train alongside Ron and Hermione, he discovered that even upon leaving the luxurious interior of the well-lit train, his eyes were going to have trouble growing accustomed to the heavy darkness. With a wary glance at his two friends (who made sure to keep apart by standing on either side of Harry), he took out his wand from the inside of his jeans pocket and held it out in front of him.  
  
He muttered "Lumos", and the wand tip softly ignited, instantly giving Harry's eyes access to observe their surroundings a bit more carefully. He could see his fellow Order members had the same idea he did, as wands were lighting up left and right.   
  
Ron and Hermione got out their wands as well, and they all stood together to form some sort of line, each one of them staring up at the massive, majestic mountains that lay before them.  
  
By the time Dumbledore finally exited the train, levitating forty or so lanterns in front of him, Harry could finally see their exact location perfectly. They were at the very base of the largest mountain range Harry had ever seen in his life. He gathered that it would take at least a day's worth of hiking just to get to the very top.  
  
Squinting his eyes and edging forward a little, he could just make out what looked like a clearing in between four large summits. There, he could tell that there was certainly some form of a campsite set up, because from where he stood he could see the flickering orange light of a large fire placed right at the center.   
  
Swallowing, his eyes shifted to the large boulders that seemed to lay scattered all along the campsite, some of them even bunched up together in little groups. Though they weren't like any boulders Harry had ever seen. And maybe it was just the unfortunate lighting, but it almost seemed as if the boulders were moving.  
  
"Look!" Cho Chang hissed out suddenly, pointing a long, shaking hand up towards the mountains and clutching Michael Corner's arm in fright. "Up there!"  
  
Harry instantly looked towards where she was pointing, as did everyone else. Then, the realization of what he was seeing hit him. Those weren't boulders- those were the  _giants._  
  
There were gasps all around, and Harry could see Lavender and Parvati take a step backwards, both now wearing hesitant expressions. Harry was beginning to feel a little uneasy himself. How were they going to pull this off? Did Dumbledore  _really_  expect for the giants to listen to them, after they had already agreed to help Voldemort? They were better off just turning around right now and heading straight for Voldemort's hideout, since the giants were going to attack them the moment they stepped foot inside the campsite.  
  
From his side, he could hear Hermione muttering incessantly under her breath, and he could tell by the sound of her voice that she was starting to rethink this whole thing too.  
  
"How did Hagrid do it?" he could hear her whispering to herself. "How did he confront a whole bunch of giants, and come out alive?"  
  
"Now," Dumbledore said quietly, turning to face them all, his calm face suddenly eerie in the flickering light of the lanterns. "Before we go any further, I must warn you of a few important things. The first, and most important, is to not be alarmed. Yes, there are around fifty or sixty of them, and yes, the largest ones are around twenty-five feet tall. The last thing you want is for any of them to sense your fear. The second thing- when we are around these giants, I do not want anyone using too much magic. Signs of spells that could be used against them will make the giants nervous, and could give them a very good reason to attack us.”  
  
He sighed, before plunging on. "The last thing you all should know- be careful not to draw too much attention to yourself. For all we know, there could be Death Eaters around. Do you understand?"  
  
There were nods of agreement all around. Harry could see that now there were sure signs of fright on everybody's faces, and that the carefree mood most of them had felt on the train was now rapidly fading away.  
  
Harry heard a small snort from behind him, and turned to see Malfoy wearing a slight smirk and shaking his head, as though this were some fairly boring television show. Fred and George were both glaring at the back of his head, as though they would like nothing better than to toss Malfoy into the air and have him land right in the center of the giants' campsite…during dinnertime.  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head, satisfied with their reactions, but the look in his eyes made Harry wonder if he somehow expected them to feel this way.   
  
"Very well," he murmured softly. Then, in a louder voice, he said, "I will be holding onto the swords. Of course, the main thing here is for us to avoid an attack, so it's best if we keep them out of sight for as long as possible."  
  
"But Sir, where are we going to stay?" Ginny asked quietly, as though she were afraid to speak too loudly and wake something up.  
  
"The caves," Lupin answered for her, his expression serious. "Though far from deluxe resorts, Professor Hagrid knows of some rather spacious ones buried deep inside the mountains that will fit all of us, and will keep us out of sight."  
  
"Tomorrow," Mad Eye Moody said gruffly, half of his mangled face hidden in shadows. "A select few will go down to the Gurg and present to him our first gift. Whether or not he accepts it will dictate our next move.”  
  
"It will also determine whether or not they decide to become violent," Kingsley added in his deep, rumbling voice. "And the rest of us will need to be ready and prepared to fight."  
  
"If all goes to plan," Dumbledore continued calmly. "Then the Gurg will accept out gift, and will agree to listen to our proposition."  
  
"And hopefully, after that, we'll have some major help on our side," Tonks said brightly, her (of the moment) golden blonde hair hanging all the way down her back. Harry tried his hardest not to look at her- that long blonde hair reminded him too much of Elle.  
  
"What gift are we going to give them?" Ron asked curiously from beside Harry. Hermione shot him a sharp look, but Ron ignored her.  
  
"You'll find out soon enough," Dumbledore said mysteriously. "Now come, we must start our ascent up the mountains. We should be able to reach the top before daybreak, and be able to make it into the caves without being seen."  
  
"Sir, can't we just use a  _tiny_  bit of magic to help us get to the top?" Seamus asked, clearly not liking the idea of hiking up the mountain.  
  
Lavender threw him an exasperated look. "Come on, do you  _really_  want to attract the attention of Death Eaters that could be hanging around? If we use magic, they'll notice us for sure!"  
  
"Alright, alright, I get the point," Seamus grumbled.  
  
Harry and Hermione shared a look, and Harry knew exactly what she was thinking. They both were remembering all too well the story Hagrid had told them about confronting the giants in their fifth year, and they were both hoping beyond hope that things went more smoothly this time.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, and the lanterns he was levitating flew to each person, which they caught at once and held out in front of them with their hands.  
  
"It will be quite dark," he explained. "Instead of relying on wands, these lanterns should be able to help you see." He eyed them all seriously. "Are we ready, then?"  
  
There were more nods, and Harry sighed heavily, before stuffing his wand back inside his jeans pocket and holding up his lantern in front of him, his eyes already growing tired behind his glasses. He wished more than anything that Elle could be there, walking steadily beside him with her own lantern held up high, cracking a joke about how the giants' clothes would probably be more stylish than Parvati's outfit. She always made him feel better in tense situations.   
  
But she wasn't there, and the uneasy feeling inside him deepened. He hoped that she was doing all right by herself, and that she was safe. Safer than he was, anyway.  
  
As the Order began their climb up the lofty mountains, Harry satisfied himself with the thought that soon, this would all be over, and he and Elle would be the parents of a wonderful baby boy or girl.  
  
He tried not to think that, if the giants attacked, it would be a baby he would never live to see.

 

* * *

 

The hissing, bubbling cauldron placed before them in the center of the dungeon, which had so many months ago revealed a deep, crimson potion, now exposed liquid contents of a nasty, greenish shade. It was not completely emerald, but there was a definite difference to the potion's appearance now, ever since the Death Eaters had added their blood.  
  
Voldemort and Damien were standing over the cauldron menacingly, peering down into it with eyes that refused to be torn away, as if the potion's very existence contained a power to enrapture their stares. Finally, Voldemort managed to break his gaze, and walked towards the dungeon's heavy bolted door, turning his back on the potion.  
  
"My Lord!" Damien said, turning his back on the cauldron as well. "Master, the potion has already begun to transform! How much longer until it is fully complete?"  
  
Voldemort stopped just outside the door, closing his eyes as if praying for patience. Damien lowered his eyes in shame.  
  
"Forgive me, my Lord," he murmured apologetically. "I just wondered when...I mean, after all, we've given Dumbledore and the Potter boy more than enough time to come up with a plan, and if we wait any longer..."  
  
Voldemort let out a sinister laugh. "As I have said before, Dumbledore is not even aware such a potion exists. They have no way of finding out, and though the weapons they hold may be powerful, they do not even compare to the weapons we hold in our possession."  
  
Damien looked hesitant. "But Master, their swords...I have seen them for myself, they are most extraordinary."  
  
Voldemort shook his head. "I am disappointed in your lack of faith," he said, in a voice so soft that it was almost haunting. "You forget exactly who we are dealing with. These wizards consider themselves heroes, but they are weak. You see, every hero has a weakness. And we've had the fortune to find Potter's weakness. No weapon of theirs could stop us once the potion is used against the girl."  
  
Damien swallowed and nodded. "Of course my Lord, you are right," he said. "But if I may ask, when we added our blood, you mentioned another task…”  
  
Voldemort stared at him appraisingly. "And I'm sure you'd like to know exactly what that task might be?"  
  
Damien nodded again, and Voldemort sighed.  
  
"Very well. Once the potion is ready, then it will be time for the final ingredient…the girl's blood. But before we seize her, I need you to travel to the mountains and check that our allies, the giants, are ready to journey here and fight.”  
  
“Once they have agreed, you will then kidnap the girl. Bring her here. Remember, we must not harm her until we have retrieved her blood. After that, she's as good as dead. In fact, I'll have Bella do the honors- I'm sure she'd be up to the task."   
  
He eyed Damien carefully. "Do you think you can manage that?"  
  
"Of course, Master", Damien obliged, bowing his head. "Whatever you wish, it will be done."  
  
Voldemort stared at Damien for a while.

"I am afraid I am not entirely comfortable with the idea of you traveling to the mountains alone, Damien," he said after a few moments. "It is too big a risk, and I can't afford for you to make a mistake. Perhaps I should send Dolohov and a few others to accompany you?"  
  
Damien blinked and lowered his eyes again, obviously highly insulted that Voldemort did not trust him to brave the journey alone. "As you please, Master," he said quietly. "Whatever it takes to ensure that everything goes according to plan."  
  
Voldemort nodded approvingly. "Excellent," he said. "I do say, I am looking forward to the company of our giant friends." His eyes glinted evilly. "Who knows? Maybe even after they help us, they'll receive an exceptional reward. Enormous, disgusting burdens littering the Earth, don't you agree Damien?"  
  
Damien nodded, and hurriedly departed the dungeon, leaving Voldemort to gaze back once more towards the bubbling cauldron.   
  
The outlook for the giants did not look good; nor did the outlook for Harry Potter, or Dumbledore's army, or the girl. 

 

* * *

 

The long, excruciating journey up the mountains seemed to take forever, but at long last Harry and the rest of the Order had touched upon even ground and headed straight for the largest cave they could find, which was nestled deeply within the edge of a large mountain just above the giants' campsite.  
  
Even though the cave had been large enough and deep enough to hold all of the Order, they still had to keep out of sight, so they managed to travel inside and make themselves fully hidden just before the morning light lit up the valley and roused the sleeping giants, most of whom immediately set off heavy tremors the second they got to their feet, which gave the illusion that they were in the middle of an earthquake.  
  
Almost instantly after they settled in (well, as settled in as you can get in a cave), and had set up a camp of their own, Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley, and Lupin had all gone down to see the Gurg, bringing with them a worthy gift to present.  
  
This first gift turned out to be an Eternal Torch- a wooden bracket lit with bright yellow Grubraithian flames that burned forever, and which only gave light to the person holding it. Harry thought it was a pretty cool offering, but couldn't help remembering Hagrid's original gift...didn't the giants ever get sick of fire?  
  
The others left behind in the caves had a job to do. It was now their mission to be on the lookout, and make sure no Death Eaters were around, while at the same time keeping a close eye on how the giants were reacting to the visitors.  
  
After lighting a small fire in the center of the dark cave, Snape beckoned them all forward, and together they came up with a quick plan, which they were to stick to for the duration of their mission. The younger members were to spread out among the cliffs and bushes, and secretly keep an eye on the giants with their wands on them at all times, in case they were spotted and the giants tried to attack. The adult Order members were to go off in search of any unwanted Death Eaters who might be lurking around.  
  
Before they set off, they were left with a warning from Moody. "Any sign of trouble, and just send red sparks up into the air. Don't worry about being seen. We'll come and find you immediately,” he said gruffly.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, after splitting up from the others, decided to take their own direction, and headed towards a spot behind a large cliff that overlooked the hefty campsite. He could see his friends' eyes go wide as one of the larger giants sat up and looked over at them with its enormous, bristly head, but they quickly ducked out of sight, and the giant (probably thinking he had seen an oddly-shaped bird) grunted and turned the other way.  
  
Breathing sighs of relief, the three of them leaned against the back of a cliff, all clutching their wands and staring out at the trees.  
  
"That was way too close," Hermione whispered, clutching a hand to her chest.  
  
Harry cautiously lowered his wand and craned his neck a little to look behind him. "I think he's gone," he said in a low voice. "Yeah, there's nothing looking this way..."  
  
Carefully, the three of them poked their heads up over the side of the cliff, crouching down low so that it would be easy to duck back down again in case they were spotted. Shielding his eyes against the blinding sun, Harry scanned the campsite, trying to catch sight of Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Look!" Ron exclaimed, pointing towards a spot on the edge of the campsite.  
  
“Shh!” Harry warned.   
  
Harry could see a medium-sized crystal blue lake and, sitting next to it, two of the largest giants he had ever seen. Remembering Grawp, Hagrid's little brother, Harry concluded that these giants were about fifty times bigger. Looking closer, he could also tell that one of the giants was clearly female (though it was kind of hard to tell the difference between the sexes), and that the other male was clearly the Gurg.  
  
The Gurg was leaning back against a couple of large rocks, his eyes partly closed, and about a dozen or so dead animals were strewn across his feet. Other giants were bowing their heads towards them as they made their way past, clearly frightened of getting too close or showing any signs of disrespect. Squinting a little, Harry could just make out the tiny figures of Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley making their way slowly down to the Gurg.   
  
Ron was now breathing rather heavily, and his face looked pale.  
  
"I hope my dad knows what he's doing," he said softly. He then looked around at them worriedly. "What if they don't like the gift? What if the giants just decide to knock the three of them out cold without even listening to them? We'll all be done for!"  
  
Harry sighed grimly. "You remember what Mad Eye said," he told his friend, as calmly as he could. "We send sparks up into the air at any sign of trouble, and they'll come to help. Besides," he added wearily. "Dumbledore wouldn't have gone to all this trouble if he didn't think this would work.”  
  
At these words, the three of them fell silent. Ron, taking a deep breath, glanced warily once more over towards where his dad, Lupin, and Dumbledore were now bowing down towards the Gurg and presenting their gift. They were holding the Eternal Torch up high, and ignoring the other giants as they inclined their heads to the ground.  
  
Harry could see the Gurg's eyes light up with interest and nudge his wife, and Harry's hopes immediately soared. The Gurg didn't look angry at all; instead, he looked curious, and as Dumbledore laid the gift down upon the floor, the massive creature surveyed the three of them with patient significance. Harry heard Hermione let out an enormous sigh of relief next to him.  
  
"I think they're going to accept the gift!" she said breathlessly, though she still looked a bit anxious. "Oh thank goodness, they don't look like they're going to attack!" She grasped Harry's arm tightly. "Oh Harry, they just might listen to us! This just might work!" she cried happily.  
  
Ron looked over to where Hermione had her hand on Harry's arm, and his expression instantly darkened. Hermione noticed this at once and let her hand drop, inching slowly away from Harry with an expression of embarrassment.  
  
Harry cleared his throat, but was saved from trying to repair this awkward moment as a loud BANG sounded out from somewhere nearby, and all three of them jumped to their feet, hearts pounding, wands held out in front of them.  
  
"What was that?" Hermione hissed, looking around wildly.  
  
"Over there!" Harry said, pointing straight ahead. Bright red sparks had just shot into the air, and Harry could see at once that they were wand sparks. He dashed in the direction of the sparks, Hermione and Ron at his heels.  
  
"Somebody from the Order is in trouble!" he yelled, as they dashed through trees and dodged even more cliffs, quickly forgetting that they were supposed to be keeping a low profile. Suddenly, there was another BANG, and as they burst through a clearing Harry realized at once what was going on.  
  
It appeared as if a fight had broken out among a couple of the giants. From how they were all flailing wildly at each other and gesturing with their bulky, hairy arms towards a warm, unoccupied fire, Harry guessed that they were arguing over which one of them had gotten there first, and which one of them the fire rightfully belonged to.  
  
Looking to the left, Harry saw a frightened looking Neville standing far away from the great rumblings, across from Malfoy. In all the ruckus, none of the giants seemed to have noticed the two humans standing apart from them, and were now too busy roaring at each other and tearing apart each other's flesh to be too concerned with anything else.  
  
One of the giants, who looked so angry that his gigantic, stretchy face seemed to be bulging with rage, was standing so close to the flames that the edge of his battered cloth pants caught on fire, immediately causing the air to grow heavy with smoke.

As the giant blundered closer to them, stomping his feet to get the fire out, Harry yelled, "Let's get out of here!" He, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Malfoy ran for it.  
  
As soon as they were away, far enough so that the giants' shouts no longer thundered right in their eardrums, Harry, panting, turned accusingly towards Malfoy.  
  
"What the bloody hell was that all about?" he asked him angrily. Ron and Hermione were both staring suspiciously at him as well, and Hermione was clutching a stitch in her side.  
  
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "I didn't do anything," he responded coolly.  
  
"Oh, come off it," Ron said bitterly. "You were up to something, I know it!"  
  
"Neville, what happened?" Hermione asked him gently, as he still looked rather shaken.  
  
Neville gave a little gulp and cast a hurried look toward Malfoy, who rolled his eyes and stuffed his wand back inside his pocket, suddenly disgusted.  
  
"It was  _his_  fault!" Neville exclaimed, pointing a trembling finger at Malfoy, who glared back at him. "He decided to sneak up behind me, and I thought it was a Death Eater, so I sent red sparks into the air. But then the sparks landed on a couple of bushes and caught fire, which caused the giants to come and start fighting over who would get to claim it.”  
  
Ron looked confused. "But then, what was that loud banging noise we heard?"  
  
Malfoy sneered at Neville. "That was me," he explained calmly. "One of the giants spotted Longbottom and started to go towards him, but I stuck out my foot and tripped the ugly brute. The banging sound you heard was the giant falling to the ground- it felt like the whole earth was shaking."  
  
He caught Hermione's alarmed look and said quickly, "Don't worry, the gigantic idiot didn't know it was me, he thought it was of one his own lot...you should've seen him, he got really angry and started kicking his legs out at all his mates, trying to trip them back..." He faltered as Hermione's look of alarm turned into one of rage.  
  
"How  _dare_  you!" she seethed, marching right up to Malfoy, looking positively furious. Malfoy's eyes widened, and he took a step backwards.  
  
"What are you thinking, that this is all a game? This is SERIOUS Malfoy, you can't go around sneaking up on people just to scare them, and we could all get MURDERED out here! For heaven's sake, we're not in school anymore! And I would've thought that you of all people would try to act mature, seeing as how your friend Ginny trusts you so much and has tried to convince us all that you've changed..."  
  
"I  _have_  changed" Draco muttered icily. "You think you're such a little Miss-Know-It-All, but you know  _nothing_  about me.”  
  
"Yes, but its incidents like these that show you haven't changed a bit! You're still the same bullying, insipid little ferret from Hogwarts who goes around tormenting people just to make yourself seem more superior..."  
  
"Tormenting people?" Malfoy asked in disbelief. "For once, Granger, I don't think you have all your facts straight. You've only heard Longbottom's side of the story. He may have thought I was sneaking up on him, but the only reason I was behind him in the first place was because of that giant who spotted him. If it hadn't been for me tripping him, Longbottom would probably be dangling upside-down over a fireplace right now. So, you see, I saved his life."  
  
Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Neville said nothing. Hermione looked very much taken aback, and it was clear she had not been expecting Malfoy to actually prove her wrong.  
  
Neville was now turning red, and he looked quite ashamed. Ron and Harry glanced at each other, neither knowing what to say. Malfoy smirked, and gave a halfhearted sort of laugh.  
  
"Don't worry," he said to Hermione, who gazed back at him with a hard look. "I don't expect an apology." He glared at her, and leaned in a little closer. "I just want you to realize that as smart as you think you are, you don't always know  _everything_  about  _everybody_."  
  
Unexpectedly, Ron took out his wand and faced Malfoy, looking defiant and determined.  
  
"Don't talk to her that way," he spat, his eyes fixed angrily at Malfoy. "I don't care if you've proved yourself to be some sort of savior, you can’t talk to her like that.”  
  
Hermione looked at Ron, surprised. "Ron, don't!" she said.  
  
When Ron didn't listen to her, Malfoy raised his own wand, and from the looks of it the two of them were about to duel. Hermione tried to push Ron's arm down, but he didn't budge.  
  
"Ron, please!" she cried desperately. "Malfoy's right, I shouldn't have said those things. Just put the wand down, the last thing we need right now is for somebody to notice us..."  
  
Slowly, Ron lowered his wand and dropped his gaze to the ground. Malfoy smirked again and tucked his wand away. Hermione sighed, and stepped back.  
  
Ron turned to walk away from Malfoy, but as he passed Hermione, he whispered, "Even though we're not together, I can still defend you."  
  
Hermione's eyes grew large, and she opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks all came running out of some nearby bushes and headed straight towards them.  
  
"Who sent those sparks up?" Moody growled at once. "Was it one of you?"  
  
"It was me," Neville said quietly, still rather red in the face. "But it was nothing, just a mistake..."  
  
"Are you five alright?" Tonks asked worriedly. They nodded, and she looked relieved. "Good," she said. "We need to get back to the cave. Dumbledore, Remus, and Arthur have just returned, and they have news for us."  
  
"We should go this way, just in case the fight is still going on," Kingsley said, pointing in the opposite direction.  
  
Sighing slightly, Harry turned around, leading the way back to the cave with the other seven trailing behind him.

 

* * *

 

Later on that afternoon, they all sat in the cave gathered around Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley. Though they all were extremely exhausted (Harry hadn't slept a wink since he had gotten off the Hogwarts Express), their spirits were high. Dumbledore had just finished telling them that Kreptar (the Gurg) had accepted their gift, and had agreed to listen to their proposition.   
  
After Dumbledore explained to the giant what Voldemort was planning, Kreptar realized at once that he had been lied to, and informed Dumbledore that Voldemort had promised the giants immense rewards in return for their help.  
  
Dumbledore wasted no time in telling Kreptar that this wasn't so. Voldemort might have had a reward in mind for them, but that reward could only be death and destruction. Dumbledore then went on to inform him that if Voldemort succeeded in destroying their army, the entire giant race was likely to be wiped out.  
  
After hearing this, and being affirmed over and over that if they were to help Dumbledore, the giants would gain freedom to dwell wherever they pleased, Kreptar appeared to be somewhat convinced. But before any of the Order could get too excited about this uplifting turn of events, Dumbledore held up his hand.  
  
"We must not get too ahead of ourselves," Dumbledore warned. "After all, Kreptar did say he would need time to think. I assume he does not want to appear too eager. However, our odds are looking good, and we should keep our hopes up. Hopefully, within a few weeks at the latest, we shall be heading over to Voldemort's hideout with a band of giants to back us up."  
  
Everybody cheered at this, but Harry's insides squirmed uncomfortably. Having the giants join their side was great, but a few weeks sounded like a lifetime. He had only been away from Elle for two days, but already it felt like two centuries. How much longer was he going to be apart from her? He longed to talk to her, even for just a few minutes, and regretted not bringing Hedwig. He knew bringing an owl along was not wise, but at least he would've been able to write to her. Maybe she would write to him? Hedwig would surely be able to find him here, she always found him wherever he was.  
  
As Snape stood up to give Dumbledore a report, Harry stood up and prepared to exit the cave. Ron looked up at him curiously as Harry stepped over the sleeping bags to reach the patch of light leading outside.  
  
"Where are you going?" he asked quietly, keeping an eye on Dumbledore.  
  
"Outside," Harry muttered, distracted. "Stretching my legs a bit. I'll be right back, don't worry."  
  
Once he was out of the cave, Harry closed his eyes and leaned back against the stone, stuffing his hands in his pockets.   
  
Enjoying the afternoon mountain breeze on his face, he felt his worry and misery at being away from Elle wash over him. Of the almost three years him and Elle had been together, they had never spent more than a couple of days apart. Of course, there had been that five-month period during their seventh year when they were broken up, but at least then they still saw each other. Being away from her felt unnatural, as if a part of him were missing.  
  
Harry didn't know what was wrong with him. For practically all his life, he'd only had himself to look after, with no one else to worry about. But now, for the first time in his life, he actually had a family waiting for him back home, depending on him to be there and make it back alive. It felt strange, but good at the same time. Comforting, even. He liked the idea of feeling wanted, of feeling needed. He had never felt that way before.  
  
He didn't know how long he had been standing out there, but soon he felt a hand on his shoulder, and his eyes flew open. Standing up straight, he blinked, and stared at Dumbledore as if unsure why he was there.  
  
"Sorry, Professor," he said. "I just came outside for a little bit, you know, to get some fresh air..."  _Wow_ , he thought to himself.  _Could I sound any stupider?_  
  
Dumbledore seemed to understand. He smiled softly, and nodded his head.  
  
"Don't apologize," he said lightly. "I just wanted to see if you were alright."  
  
Harry nodded and tried his best to grin. "I'm fine," he said, in a falsely cheery voice. "Really. I'm really glad about the giants and everything."   
  
Dumbledore seemed to see right through this.  
  
"I know you miss her, Harry," he said with a sigh. "But she understands why you must do this, and you must understand that you are doing the right thing."  
  
"Am I?" Harry asked, more heatedly than he had meant to. "I mean, what kind of man leaves their wife alone?”  
  
"A brave one," Dumbledore answered at once. "One who would do almost anything to protect their family, even if it means leaving their loved ones alone for a short while. By doing this Harry, by going on a quest to defeat Voldemort once and for all, you are keeping her safe. Elle cannot ask for a better man than you.” He cleared his throat. “Also, if I may add, you couldn’t ask for a better woman than Elle. She has proven time and again that she can take care of herself.”   
  
Harry nodded, taking in Dumbledore's words. Surprisingly, they made him feel a lot better. Looking up at Dumbledore gratefully, he opened his mouth to say something, but Dumbledore beat him to it.  
  
"Let's go back inside, shall we?" he said, motioning towards the cave. "You need your rest; it's been a very trying day for all of us. We’ll have the Aurors keep watch for Death Eaters tonight.”  
  
Harry took a deep breath, and let it out. Feeling much calmer than he had before, he obligingly followed Dumbledore back inside the cave.   



	42. Forever Changed

Four weeks later, the simmering potion was  _finally_  complete. With the exception of one key ingredient.  
  
As Voldemort stared into the now brilliantly green and shimmering toxic cauldron, he beckoned Damien down into the dungeon of his mansion, and the young, eager Death Eater arrived at once.  
  
"Yes, my Lord?" Damien murmured inquiringly. "You requested my presence?"  
  
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "The time has come, Damien," he said in a deep, resounding voice that echoed off the stone walls.  
  
"In-indeed, My Lord?" Damien stammered eagerly, quite forgetting his debonair tone.  
  
Voldemort nodded, his expression satisfied. "Yes Damien," he said softly. "The potion is complete."  
  
Damien swallowed. "I assume this means I am to travel to the mountains, and confirm with the giants immediately?" he asked, his eyes cast respectfully downward.  
  
Voldemort raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I will need you to travel to the mountains, but you must remember to use as little magic as possible. The last thing we want is to alarm those insipid beasts and have them change their minds. We are dependent on their cooperation. Confirm their loyalty, and inform them to journey back with you to our hideout at once."  
  
Damien nodded in understanding. "And the girl?"  
  
"We’ll wait until the giants arrive," Voldemort replied. "If I know Potter, he'll come after her right away, bringing Dumbledore with him. Until then, I'm sending you, Bella, Dolohov, McNair, and Rookwood to the mountains.”  
  
Damien looked most displeased, and appeared unsure whether he was brave enough to argue with the Dark Lord. "But Master," he said urgently. "I promise you, I am capable of dealing with the giants on my own..."  
  
Voldemort held up a hand to silence him. "After your pitiful display at that funeral, I have lost my trust in sending you alone. I cannot risk you destroying my plans again."  
  
Damien sighed. "I understand, My Lord," he said quietly.  
  
Voldemort pointed a long, skeletal finger at the door. "Go," he ordered Damien. "The others are prepared to leave at once."  
  
Damien bowed, but voiced no further arguments. With a look of mingled shame and foreboding, Damien stood upright again and exited the room.

 

* * *

 

"I can't believe it's been a month already," Harry muttered to Ron, staring gloomily out of the dismal cave at the torrential downpour soaking the grounds and the campsites. "Four bloody weeks since we've been here.”  
  
"Calm down," Ron said. "Listen, I know you're tense about leaving Elle alone for so long, but think about it, this journey could have gone a lot worse. At least now we have the giants on our side..."  
  
"We don't know that for sure yet," Harry interrupted darkly, still gazing out at the pouring rain. “How long do you reckon they’ll take to deliberate?”  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "You know they're going to help us, they just want to make a big deal of it by dragging out their decision.”  
  
Harry finally tore his gaze away from the storm raging noisily outside, and turned his eyes on Ron.

"Who are you to tell me to calm down? You're one to talk, you've been miserable ever since we got here! Admit it, you feel just as bad being apart from Hermione as I do being away from Elle."  
  
Ron sighed, and cast a look towards where Hermione was sitting by the fire with Ginny and Tonks.  
  
"At least you know Elle still cares about you," Ron said grumpily. "Hermione and I might never be together again."  
  
"So then why don't you do something about it?" Harry asked, rather impatiently. "You said yourself you were still in love with her and wanted to marry her, so why don't you stop making excuses and just bloody propose already!"  
  
Ron faced him with wide eyes. “Propose in a cave?”  
  
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully. "I've been uptight lately, you’re right. This whole mission is driving me mad! You have no idea how badly I want to turn around right now and go back home to Elle. I’ve had no communication from her, and I feel like I’m racing against the clock.”

Harry took a deep breath, and tried not to shout.

“I know you're having a hard time of it with Hermione, but..." he trailed off slowly, before taking a deep breath. "Just be thankful she's here with you, and that you can still see her, instead of being miles away without a clue as to what she's up to, or how she's feeling."  
  
Ron gave a little half grin and patted Harry comfortingly on the back. "That was insightful, mate," he said lightly, trying to improve Harry's mood. "I am thankful, don't worry. But you'll be able to see Elle soon, and she'll be fine. I guarantee it.”  
  
Harry shook his head. He didn't quite feel the need to tell Ron that that very thought was the only thing giving him strength.

"Oh, by the way, you have something to look forward to as well," he added suddenly, as if the thought had just struck him, even though he had been waiting for the right moment to tell his best friend the news.   
  
Ron looked confused. "Why?" he asked. "I'm not the one becoming a father."  
  
"No," said Harry. "But you're about to become a godfather."  
  
Ron looked stunned for a moment, but then a grin slowly spread over his face.   
  
"Really?" he said, sounding quite pleased. "You and Elle want to make me the baby's…godfather?"  
  
Harry nodded, and Ron laughed.   
  
"You must be out of your minds," he said whimsically.  
  
"Well, there's no denying that," Harry said with a laugh. "Hermione's agreed to be a godmother as well."  
  
Ron closed his mouth with a snap. "Well, uh...that's great," he said feebly, but with much less enthusiasm than before. "I must say, you two have excellent taste..."  
  
But his attention seemed to be drawn elsewhere, as he was now staring out of the cave's opening with his mouth slightly open. Confused, Harry followed his gaze, and understood instantly what Ron was looking at. Through the sheets of rain, he could just make out the sight of five or so hooded figures streaking through the bushes, heading straight for the giants' campsite. He recognized them at once as Death Eaters.  
  
Harry couldn't tell from this distance who they were, but he had a shrewd idea that the tall physique of the Death Eater trailing behind the rest belonged to none other than Damien, the very man they had interrogated at the funeral.   
  
Harry and Ron both glanced at each other hurriedly, momentarily speechless.  
  
"Hey guys," came a voice from behind them, and Ron and Harry both jumped, only to find that it was Neville.  
  
"I just thought I might come over here to see what you two were doing, though it is quite chilly on this side," Neville babbled, unaware that Ron and Harry were not listening. "I tell you, I'm glad we kept some of that everlasting fire, it'd be a pity if the fire kept going out all the time, and with this rain...hey, what are you guys looking at?"  
  
For Neville had apparently just noticed that he was being ignored and, his round cheeks reddening a little, he bent down to peer in the direction where they were looking. As he caught sight of the now disappearing figures dressed in black cloaks and masks, he let out a loud gasp.  
  
"Death Eaters!" he cried out, before Harry or Ron could say anything.  
  
The chatter in the cave died down, and more people were beginning to look up from their huddled groups to see what Neville was yelling about.   
  
McGonagall, Snape, and Moody got up at once and strode over to where the three boys were situated at the mouth of the cave. Hermione had risen to her feet too, and was staring at them with her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Longbottom, did you say you just saw Death Eaters?" McGonagall asked briskly, trying to see outside through the thick sheet of rain.  
  
"Where?" Snape asked sharply. He actually made to step outside, but Moody pulled him back.  
  
"Are you insane?" he growled. "If Death Eaters are out there, you don't want them spotting you before you spot them!"  
  
"They're not there anymore," Harry said quickly, getting to his feet. "We saw them heading towards the campsite."  
  
Ron's face paled. "I bet they've been sent here to fetch the giants!" He groaned. "My dad and Dumbledore and Lupin are still out there. The Death Eaters are going to find them!"  
  
"No they won’t," said McGonagall calmly.   
  
Harry turned around and, with an enormous surge of relief, came to find that at that exact moment, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley had just apparated into the middle of the cave.  
  
"I have excellent news!" Dumbledore called out in a booming voice. "After many weeks, conversations, and gift exchanges, we have officially gained the entire tribe of giants as our allies! They are to assist us in our attack on Voldemort and his army immediately!"  
  
There was a loud cheer of glee throughout the younger members of the Order, but Moody hurriedly came striding forward and walked up to the three of them.  
  
"I wouldn't celebrate just yet," he said gruffly, instantly bringing the applause to a halt. "We've just caught sight of a couple of Death Eaters lurking around the campsite.”  
  
Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley all exchanged grins, which Harry had not been expecting.  
  
"Not to worry," Lupin said to Moody and the rest of the Order calmly. "After the long discussion we've just had with the Gurg, I'd say the Death Eaters are in for quite a surprise."  
  
"Yes," Mr. Weasley agreed, nodding at their astonished faces. "Trust us when we say that the Death Eaters, for the moment, are well taken care of."  
  
“I want you all to gather up your things,” Dumbledore said seriously. “We leave for Lord Voldemort's hideout first thing tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

"EXPLAIN YOURSELVES!" Voldemort roared at once, and Damien, Bellatrix, Dolohov, Rookwood, and McNair all found themselves bowing down in front of him.  
  
"WHY HAVEN'T THE GIANTS COME? DID THEY, OR DID THEY NOT, AGREE TO JOIN FORCES WITH US? HOW IS IT THAT EVERY TIME I SEND ONE OF YOU TO PERFORM A SIMPLE TASK, YOU END UP FAILING?"  
  
"Please Master!" Bellatrix cried, and Voldemort turned his livid glare onto her. "We tried all that we could, but the giants have lied to us! As your most faithful servant, I have done everything I possibly could to please you..."  
  
"AND STILL IT IS NOT ENOUGH!" Voldemort shouted. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ALLEGED FAITHFULNESS, BELLA!"  
  
"My Lord," McNair spoke up slowly, though quite calmly. "What she says is true. We went to speak with them, just as you requested, but they lunged at us, and informed us that we were now their enemies. We only just managed to Disapparate before they trampled us."  
  
Damien spoke up next, in a voice so low that he was barely audible. "My Lord," he said quietly. "The giants have now joined forces with Dumbledore's army. They are coming here, and we don’t have the girl’s blood yet.”  
  
Voldemort said nothing, though the fiery fury in his eyes hinted at his inner agony. Blinded by anger, he raised his wand.  
  
Losing the desire to look any of his Death Eaters in the eye, he pointed his wand at each of them in turn, with a wrath so great that no other human in the world could withstand it.  
  
Maybe the Cruciatus Curse would teach them all a lesson. 

* * *

Elle awoke from her nightmare with a start, her heart pounding unnaturally fast. Lightning flashed menacingly outside the windows, and the rain that had been weeping down from the skies all month was as torrential as ever.   
  
Pushing her damp blond hair off her face, she turned towards the bedside table and read the small digital clock lying on top of it. With a sigh, she flopped back onto the pillows. It was already afternoon. Ever since Harry had left, Elle had become slightly nocturnal; she slept through the day and stayed up all night, too scared to sleep for fear of nightmares and panic attacks. Now, it seemed, she was experiencing them during the day too.  
  
All the nightmares were the same- every one of them involved Harry being attacked, tortured, or killed by some faceless creature or Death Eater. She wanted the nightmares to end, but more than anything, she wanted to talk to Harry. It had been a month since he had left, and even though Hermione had told her that they'd probably see her in a few weeks, Elle was dying to talk to someone other than her Healer.   
  
After the makeover, her and Healer Donovan had formed a friendship, and Elle found herself actually looking forward to her weekly visits. After all, the check-ups with her caretaker were the only form of communication she had these days. Elle had never felt so alone in all her life.  
  
Then, suddenly, Elle had an idea. What was she doing sitting here, complaining to herself about being lonely, when she could just send Harry a letter? She had thought of it before, and knew sending an owl was dangerous, but…why not? Nobody had warned her about sending a letter, and she couldn't really see anything wrong with it. She was in enough danger at it was, and had faith that Hedwig could make the journey.   
  
Just as she was planning what she might put in a letter to Harry, a huge wave of pain washed over her...a pain so intense that she had to screw her eyes shut and bite down hard on her lip just to keep from crying out loud. After a few moments, the pain finally wore away.  
  
Elle closed her eyes. She had been having contractions for the past couple of days, but they hadn’t been as painful as this. She chalked it up to the stress the nightmare had caused, and didn’t want to do anything just yet; she figured she’d wait until her next check-up with Healer Donovan and then figure out what to do from there.   
  
The main thing was to stay calm. She wanted to wait for Harry. Maybe her Healer would be able to give her a potion or something to prolong the process, because she wasn’t exactly sure she could wait that long on her own. After all, she was still just shy of her due date. There was still time.   
  
Another contraction came a few minutes later, and she squeezed her pillow tight, and bit down so hard on her lip that she tasted blood. The Cruciatus Curse, in her opinion, was nothing compared to this. She planned to tell Lupin that the very next time she saw him; after all, he was the one who taught them how to perform the curse in the first place. Maybe they all should have practiced childbirth instead.  
  
The pain seemed to last forever, even with Elle trying to distract herself with this amusing thought. By the time it went away, Elle was starting to panic. The baby couldn’t come early, it just couldn’t.

She took a few deep breaths and repeated Healer Donovan’s words in her mind.  _Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm…_  
  
Still yearning to write to Harry, she threw the covers off her, and made her way extra slowly out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Her legs were shaking terribly, and her nightgown clung to her stomach, which suddenly seemed unnaturally large. Had she been this big yesterday?   
  
With a desperate glance around the kitchen, she saw Hedwig perched on one of the topmost shelves. She too looked out the window every few minutes, waiting for signs of Harry.   
  
"Hedwig!" she cried out, praying that Harry's owl would listen to her for once, and come down.  
  
She watched with bated breath as Hedwig turned her big, amber eyes on Elle, and gazed at her reproachfully. She hadn't bothered to move an inch from the shelf.  
  
Elle was on the verge of tears. "Please Hedwig!" she persisted. "I know you don't like me very much, but this is important. I really need to send a letter to Harry.”  
  
Hedwig ruffled her feathers a little, but she must have sensed the genuine desperation in Elle's voice because she flew down at once and landed on the counter in front of her, looking at Elle cautiously and hooting softly. Elle looked around anxiously for something to write on.  
  
"I need a piece of paper!" she shouted in frustration, when she couldn't find anything. At once, a fresh sheet of parchment and a small, ink-filled quill that lay on the dining room table zoomed over to her, and Elle caught both with one hand.  
  
"Give me a minute," she murmured to Hedwig, preparing to write a fast letter to Harry, telling him what she couldn't bear to even think or say out loud. What would Harry think? Would he come back to be with her? Or would he stay with the Order? Elle didn't have a clue where he could be at the moment...all she knew was that she needed him, now.  
  
 _“Hi Husband. Long time, no talk. I thought you should know that your child has decided to arrive early. Please try to come home. Hope you’re well. Love, your wife.”_  
  
It was a stupid letter, but it was also the best she could do for the time being. At least it got the point across.   
  
She could barely hear the knocking on the door that came a few moments later. Without thinking, she pointed a finger, and the door instantly flew open.   
  
A second later, Healer Donovan was inside her house, soaked to the bone. Elle had never been so happy to see anyone in her whole life.  
  
"Healer Donovan!" she cried breathlessly, still holding on to the quill and sheet of parchment.  
  
Hedwig was still waiting for her on the counter, though she was growing rather impatient. She hooted shrilly, as if to remind Elle that she still had a letter to finish. Elle ignored the owl, which made Hedwig even more annoyed.  
  
"Hello dear!" Healer Donovan greeted wearily, clutching her dripping handbag in one hand, and drying herself off with her wand in the other. "I must say, I'm looking forward to when this rain finally stops. I feel like I haven't seen the sun in ages..."  
  
She stopped short as she saw the look on Elle's face. "What's wrong, child?" she asked, concerned.  
  
Elle let out a shaky breath. “Contractions,” she explained quietly. “Not the practice ones you told me about; the real ones.”   
  
Healer Donovan straightened up at once, instantly businesslike. "How far apart?" she asked seriously, putting down her bag and walking over to her.  
  
“About five minutes,” Elle answered, surprising herself. She must’ve been unconsciously timing them.  
  
“How intense are they?”  
  
Elle was about to answer, when she found herself doubled over in pain once more. This time, the pain was excruciating, and she actually cried out in distress as she shut her eyes tightly and grasped the kitchen counter.  
  
When the pain subsided, she shook her hair away from her face, and took a deep breath.  
  
“Pretty intense,” she deadpanned.  
  
Healer Donovan was now gazing upon her with a look of worry. "I reckon it's time we get you to the hospital," she said.  
  
Elle's face paled. She had been afraid of this.

"I can’t,” she whispered. “It’s too early. I’m not due for another week and a half…”  
  
The Healer took out her wand, whispered a quick incantation, and gave it a wave. Elle felt a warm tingling sensation throughout her body. Abertha looked up at Elle. Apparently, the spell had confirmed something.   
  
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen an eager baby. It’s time to get going.”   
  
Elle shook her head. “No.”   
  
Healer Donovan narrowed her eyes. "Elle…”  
  
“I’m okay.”  
  
"You’re not," Healer Donovan argued sternly, grabbing her bag and retrieving a Portkey. A closer look showed Elle that the Portkey had the drawing of a wand crossed with a bone right on the center.  
  
“NO!” Elle shouted, suddenly in a panic. A sob escaped her lips and tears began spilling from her eyes. “I can’t do this without Harry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I need him here, I can’t do it, I don’t think I can do this…”  
  
"It's alright," Healer Donovan said gently. “Stay calm.” She grabbed Elle's hand and thrust the Portkey into it. "You  _can_  do this. I’ll be right there with you. No drama, remember?"  
  
Elle nodded her head. She was still scared, but she did, indeed, calm down.  
  
Healer Donovan smiled comfortingly. “Unless you want to have your baby here, I suggest you come with me at once."  
  
Elle no longer had the strength to object.

"But Harry..." she said weakly. "I have to tell him..."  
  
"I will send your letter to your husband," Healer Donovan assured her. “I’ll let him know where he can find us.”   
  
Elle sighed and touched a finger to the Portkey. Healer Donovan did the same. They disappeared from Elle’s flat and reappeared in a relatively cozy hospital room.   
  
The Healer handed Elle a paper gown, and immediately began preparing a line of potions on the counter. Elle eyed these warily, looking for one that might offer pain relief.   
  
“Get changed,” the Healer ordered, noticing her hesitation. “Take a quick shower, and then settle there on the bed. You’re in for a long night.” 

 

* * *

 

They had arrived, after what felt like ages, at Voldemort's hideout. As Harry and the others stared across the treacherous body of water towards the looming mansion, he couldn't help feeling a sense of foreboding. The thick, dark clouds hovering above their heads made the ocean waves crash and rage angrily against the edge of the beach they were standing on, and the steady flash of lightning kept illuminating the mansion.  
  
Harry wasn't quite sure, when Dumbledore had instructed them all to Disapparate, that they would arrive in the right place, but Dumbledore seemed to know exactly where they were headed. And sure enough, Harry and everyone else had Apparated right on the edge of a deserted Egyptian beach, looking out upon a furious ocean.  
  
Now, with their swords and wands clasped tightly in each of their hands, they were ready to cross the sea and fight Voldemort's army. Dumbledore had supplied the giants with about thirty flying, horse-drawn carriages that were fast enough to lead them here as quickly as possible. But Dumbledore was not about to waste another moment waiting for them.   
  
He nodded his head to Professor McGonagall, and she immediately strode toward a couple of abandoned, floating logs lying close to the shore. McGonagall took out her wand and instantly transfigured the logs into an enormous fleet of small-sized boats, just big enough to fit four people in each. She lowered her wand, and looked at them all appraisingly.  
  
"Tonks and I will be staying here to keep watch. Remember the signal- shoot red sparks up into the air, and one of us will be there to help at once. The rest of you will travel across on these boats...I'm afraid nobody will be able to Apparate or Disapparate directly from the island itself," McGonagall explained seriously.  
  
The Order began to move toward the small fleet of boats McGonagall had transfigured and vigilantly boarded them, similar to the way first years did on their initial voyage to Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville all stepped into one, and the very moment they were seated, the boat instantly took off across the rocky ocean, powered by magic, plunging forward through the waves so quickly and furiously that Harry got drenched with icy sea spray. Just ahead, he could make out Dumbledore, Moody, Snape, and Lupin in the first boat, already way ahead of the others.  
  
After about ten minutes, the entire fleet finally reached the edge of the island, and they all jumped out of the boats, following Dumbledore hurriedly up the steep gravel path to the mansion's entrance, where statues topped with grotesque gargoyles flanked the massive doorway. Lightning lit up the mansion's profile once more, and Harry could see the faces of his friends growing paler. He couldn't blame them; after all, none knew quite what to expect. None knew if they were even going to come back alive.   
  
As they all shared looks, however, their expressions grew stronger. They were in this together.   
  
They watched as Dumbledore impressively raised his arms, and the vast doors leading into the ominous mansion opened at once, creaking slightly as they parted to reveal a dark hallway with a stone floor and torches fastened against the wall.   
  
Harry gripped his wand and sword tighter as they all dashed inside, traipsing through the hallway as quickly as they could while still holding their weapons at the ready, in case any Death Eater decided to fly out at them and start attacking at once.  
  
But surprisingly, no one came. Instead, it was eerily quiet as they made their way through the mansion, and nobody spoke a word until their group came to a stop in a room that was equipped with a long, elegant staircase. The room was bathed in a greenish light, and after a few moments Harry realized this was because the torches fixed firmly against the wall burned emerald flames.   
  
As soon as he came upon this realization, he received a shock- this was the exact same place he had visited in his dreams...the place he had been when he dreamt that Voldemort had murdered Elle. Yes, they were definitely in the right place.  
  
As Ron, Hermione, and the others continued to look around, Harry became confused. This was, without a doubt, Voldemort's hideout...so where was Voldemort? Something wasn't right. Harry could feel it. It wasn't supposed to be this quiet, or this empty.  
  
After a couple of minutes, Malfoy arrogantly burst out with what they all were thinking.  
  
"So...where is he?"  
  
There were murmurs of agreement, and Dumbledore and Snape shared a look. 

"Perhaps we should split up?" Snape suggested.  
  
Harry was just about to argue when an icy frost suddenly enveloped the room. The torches flickered a few times in their brackets before extinguishing completely, and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling dimmed, causing the whole room to drown in inky blackness.  
  
"Lumos!" Harry hissed at once, and following this command came thirty or so echoes of the same spell.   
  
As they all held their lit wands aloft, Harry sprinted to a door at the other end of the room, with Ron and Hermione quickly following him. But before he could get to the door, it slammed shut, and Harry banged into it, throwing his whole weight against the solid wood frame.  
  
"I'm not liking this," Ron said in a low voice, looking around for another way out of the dark room.  
  
But there was no other way out. Just as Harry was about to suggest that they climb the staircase and see what was lurking on the upper floors, he heard them. He should have known; the dark and the cold were too thick. What looked like fifty Dementors slowly floated into the room, and Harry's mind was immediately wiped of any other thought.  
  
He had never in his life seen so many Dementors. Even during his third year, when he repelled a whole flock of them by the lake, it hadn't nearly been this many.  
  
He tried to clear his head, tried to keep focused, but it was getting harder and harder as more of the hooded creatures filled the room, surrounding their army and causing the air around them to freeze. Harry could barely hear anything over the cringe-worthy, rattling sounds the Dementors made when they breathed.  
  
When it seemed as if at least a hundred Dementors were now surrounding them, Harry began to lose hope. His brain was so fogged with bitter cold and now, Elle’s dreadful screams were echoing in his ears. He could see his friends around him growing weak and faint. Some dropped to their knees, but it was too dark to see their faces. Harry knew there was no way out. He couldn’t conjure a Patronus, or think of a single happy thought.   
  
The Dementors had them trapped.

 

* * *

 

On the other side of the ocean, Tonks stood on the shore next to McGonagall, keeping an eye out for the giants. As the young witch raised her wand, she caught sight of a sleek, snowy owl making its way through the sky like an elegant ghost. As the owl came closer, Tonks held out her arm and the owl landed roughly onto it, clutching a letter in its beak.  
  
Tonks frowned at it in confusion. Who was this owl looking for, and what was it doing all the way out here? Wherever this owl was from, it must've been very far away, because the bird looked exceptionally weak as Tonks retrieved the letter. The owl looked unable to fly any further.  
  
Utterly bewildered, Tonks took the letter, and the name scrawled on the front instantly grabbed her attention. She knew whose owl this belonged to now; how come she hadn’t recognized her before? She ripped the message open, and scanned the contents hurriedly.   
  
After she finished reading, her eyes narrowed, and she turned to McGonagall.  
  
"I need another boat!" she shouted at once.  
  
McGonagall gazed at her in astonishment. "What is it?" she asked.  
  
"I need to give Harry this letter," Tonks said quickly, holding up the owl and the piece of parchment. The owl swayed dangerously on Tonks' arm, but managed to cling on. McGonagall looked suspicious.  
  
"A letter?" she repeated, as if she couldn't grasp why this woman, an Auror, was willing to risk everything by barging into Voldemort's hideout just to deliver a letter.  
  
"Yes," Tonks said impatiently. "It's about Elle, and it's urgent. I think that Harry needs to know about this right away, regardless of the circumstances."  
  
McGonagall seemed to understand at once.

"Very well," she said, conjuring yet another log out of thin air with her wand, and then transfiguring it into one very small, magical boat.   
  
"Be careful," she added firmly. "I'll take the owl."  
  
"Thanks," Tonks said, depositing Hedwig onto McGonagall's outstretched arm and stepping into the boat, still clutching the letter in her hand. As soon as she sat down, the boat took off, speeding across the wretched waters to the daunting mansion ahead.

 

* * *

 

"Ugh, it hurts!" Elle cried, squeezing Healer Donovan’s hand.  
  
She was lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo’s, dressed in her paper gown. Her hair was pulled back, but wisps of it were plastered to her forehead, which was drenched in sweat. Her face was flushed.   
  
Healer Donovan stood by her side, rotating between checking a magical heart monitor and comforting her patient.  
  
“You’re doing great,” Healer Donovan said encouragingly. “Everything’s looking good, you’re almost there! No complications!  
  
Elle tried to take comfort in this, but they felt like empty words.

"I just want this to end! I want this baby out, I want it out now!" she shouted, but then instantly felt ashamed. She had told herself that she would be different, that she would go through childbirth with dignity- but that was before she knew how painful it would be. Now it was hard to give a damn what anyone thought; especially, since, no one was there.   
  
Healer Donovan sighed. "I know you do, Elle," she said, walking over to her and straightening up the pillows behind her back. "Unfortunately, that isn't up to you. You still have a little bit longer to go."  
  
Elle fell back against the pillows, angry and tired. “But this has been going on for hours already," Elle said through gritted teeth.  
  
It was true- night had already fallen outside the hospital walls, and she had been crying in pain for what felt like eternity. She had done tiny things to help ease the contractions; she had taken walks with her Healer through the corridors, laid in a warm bath, and chewed on ice chips. But nothing seemed to help for long, and every time the pain gave her a moment’s pause, she kept imagining horrible scenarios. 

She knew the stress was making it worse. After all, Harry was supposed to be here. She needed him to be here...to comfort her, possibly even tease her, and to make her feel better. Anything to distract her.  
  
Another contraction hit, but this time she got through it silently, focusing on the breathing that Healer Donovan had taught her and the sound of the small, beating heart echoing through the room. The baby might be causing her pain, but he or she seemed quite comfy in there at the moment.  
  
"Has Harry written back yet?" she asked the nurse apprehensively, as soon as the contraction ended.  
  
Healer Donovan shook her head sadly. "Honestly dear, I doubt he's even received the letter," she responded, bustling around the room. “Not if he’s as far away as you say he is.”   
  
Elle sighed and closed her eyes tightly.  _Don’t worry about Harry_ , she thought.  _He’s fine, just focus on yourself. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay calm._  
  
“That’s it,” Healer Donovan nodded. “Just relax.”  
  
Elle cringed, and the lights in the room flickered as sparks shot from her fingers. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to keep herself from accidentally destroying the room with her magic. And then another contraction hit and she found she couldn’t control her magic anymore. 

An invisible force of energy shot out from her hands, and the lightbulbs overhead shattered, along with the potion bottles lying on the table. 

Healer Donovan looked like she had been expecting this, and quickly raised her wand.

“Protego!” she yelled, protecting them from the shards of glass flying everywhere. “Reparo!” she said next, now directing her wand toward the potion bottles. They sprang back together, but they were empty. The Healer sighed, and restored the lights to normal.

Elle winced. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, looking at her hands in horror. _So much for no dramatics._ “Did I destroy anything important?” 

Healer Donovan raised her eyebrows. “Well…” she said slowly, looking exasperated. “You destroyed the potion I was about to give you for pain management.” 

Elle now turned her gaze of horror from her hands to her Healer.

“Wh-what?” she stammered. “Can’t you make more?” 

Healer Donovan sighed. “You’re progressing too fast, we may not have time,” she said, but as Elle glared at her, she relented. “We’ll try to make more quickly,” she said, jotting a memo to the Potions department and sending it off with a wave of her wand.  
  
Elle sighed. She could see the two female Healers assisting Healer Donovan glance at each other, but they said nothing. One of them eyed her sympathetically, but the other, an older witch, continued to poke and prod through areas that Elle would rather have remain private. 

Elle shut her eyes and winced.   
  
“Harry went to go and fight Lord Voldemort,” Elle told Healer Donovan breathlessly. The other Healers in the room shuddered at the name. “He went to see a bunch of giants, and then went to fight the Dark Lord. If he hasn’t gotten my letter, that must mean…”  
  
Healer Donovan shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything,” she replied slowly. “I know this a lot for an eighteen-year-old to take. Try not to think about it just now.”  
  
Elle let out a little cry of pain, and squeezed her Healer’s hand tightly. 

"I can’t help it,” she gasped. “I’m scared to death.”  
  
The young Healer who had gazed at her in sympathy looked up in surprise. "You're only eighteen?" she asked.  
  
Elle could only nod. She was tremendously exhausted, and half hoped someone would just knock her out.   
  
The Healer smiled."I'm twenty," she told her. "And I have a child at home too, a little boy.”  
  
Elle smiled. “Really?” she asked, her breathing becoming steadier. “What is he like?”  
  
The Healer smiled, and grasped Elle’s other hand. “He’s wonderful,” she replied sincerely. “The best thing that ever happened to me. Trust me, everything’s going to be okay.”  
  
Elle’s eyes watered, but she had to admit, she felt better. For the first time that evening, she stopped thinking of Harry, and started thinking of her child, who she was quite desperate to meet. She brushed her sweaty hair off her face and sat up in bed, her strength returning.   
  
“Okay,” she said resolutely. “Potion or no potion, I’ve got this.”

 

* * *

 

It was no use. No matter how many times they tried to repel them, the Dementors refused to be driven back. If anything, they seemed to be growing in numbers, and the room became steadily colder and darker as the feeble wisps of light emitting from their wands grew fainter.   
  
Only Dumbledore and Snape were still on their feet. They were running around, shooting off well-formed Patronuses that drove away one or two at a time, but it still hadn't made much of a difference. The air was thick with hooded creatures, and one by one the Dementors were starting to advance.  
  
"We have to do something!" Harry shouted to Ron and Hermione, who were still on either side of him.  
  
They both looked extremely pale and clammy. Harry had managed to produce one decent, solid Patronus, but it hadn't lasted very long, and now he didn't think he could create another one. His brain was too thick with the sound of screams and high-pitched laughter to think straight.  
  
Hermione, her whole body shaking with cold and fright, pointed a quivering finger at the stone wall of the room, where Harry could see a clearly carved doorway. At a second glance, the door appeared to be pushed ajar.  
  
"Come on!" she shouted, though to Harry her voice sounded far off, as if she were shouting to him from a million miles away. "Through there!"  
  
She dashed out of the Dementor's reach and pushed open the door, Harry and Ron following closely behind her. Harry left the door open, with the hope that somebody would notice it and be able to escape.   
  
As they continued running through the new passageway, the three of them found themselves in a corridor filled not with green, but sapphire torches. Not wasting any time to ponder over this, they rushed on, gathering speed with every step they took.  
  
"Hey, I think we're heading underground!" Ron said, his voice weak and shaky.  
  
With a start, Harry realized that Ron was right- they were, undoubtedly, descending into the deepest and darkest part of the mansion. However, the ground was still smooth, and the walls were of the same stone. But they didn't dare stop running. Harry began to wonder why they hadn't run into any Death Eaters, or Voldemort himself. Apart from the Dementors, the mansion was empty and desolate, and not at all what Harry had expected.  
  
"Where do you think Voldemort is?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they continued running through the blue-flamed passageway.  
  
"No idea," Ron answered, his wand and sword held tightly at his side. "But he's got to be around here somewhere, right?"  
  
"I'm not so sure," came Hermione's voice from a little ways behind them. Harry and Ron both slowed their pace to wait for her to catch up.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, as soon as she was near enough.  
  
"I mean," Hermione said, clearly out of breath. "I think Voldemort and his Death Eaters have fled."  
  
"What?" Ron exclaimed. "No way! We can't have come all this way just for nothing! Where else could they have gone?"  
  
"Many places," Hermione answered, her feet thumping roughly against the firm, stone ground. "But I bet that as soon as he heard we were coming, and that the giants abandoned him, he decided to vanish and leave us with a dead end. He wanted to lead us here, and..."  
  
"And trap us with a thousand Dementors," Harry finished for her, coming to a stop at yet another tall, concrete door. The other two slowed and came to a stop beside him. Hermione raised her wand to magically open the door, but there was no need. Ron pushed the door open easily with his hands, and they all hurried inside this newfound chamber.  
  
It was a dungeon. A dank, shadowy dungeon that had once haunted Harry's dreams. It was all coming back to him now- this was the very dungeon that had led him to the room with the staircase and green flame torches, in the nightmare where Elle was murdered.   
  
As he gazed around at the cells, and at the metallic chains bolted to the walls, Hermione crept over to the farthest corner of the room, where there sat an enormous black cauldron.  
  
"You’d better come and look at this," she called, lowering her wand and sword.  
  
Harry and Ron both rushed towards the cauldron, and Harry squinted down as he leaned over the edge.  
  
"It's empty," Harry said.  
  
"It wasn't always empty," Hermione replied, running her finger along the outer edge of the cauldron. She held up her hand for Harry and Ron to see. "Look at this."  
  
Harry looked closely at her finger, and instinctively backed away. Hermione's finger was dripping with blood, but the blood wasn't her own- clearly, she had wiped it off the cauldron's rim. Ron gulped noisily.  
  
"You reckon this cauldron was filled with...blood?" he asked, in a voice just above a whisper.  
  
"Well, not  _just_  blood," Hermione reasoned, now bending down to pick something up off the floor. "It looks to me as though someone's been brewing a potion in here."  
  
She stood back up again, and Harry took from her the battered piece of parchment she had picked up. Scrawled on the faded parchment in untidy black ink, were two words:  _Validus Cruor._  
  
"Validus Cruor?" Ron read aloud, leaning over Harry's shoulder. "What does that mean?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Hermione said, taking back the parchment. Her brow was knitted in heavy thought.  
  
"Have you ever heard of it before?" Harry asked her.  
  
"No," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "But I've heard the word 'cruor' before. It's Latin; I read it in a book. It means ‘blood’.”  
  
Harry sighed. "Well, that explains the blood on the cauldron. It must be an ingredient. Do you think we should go to Snape?" He hated the thought of going to him for advice, but after all, Snape was the Potions Master.  
  
Hermione frowned. "Yes," she said quietly. "Voldemort obviously wanted us to find it...maybe it will give us some clue as to where he went."  
  
Then, suddenly, an earsplitting bang came from the dungeon door. Simultaneously, the three of them raised their wands, looking wildly around for the source of the disturbance...perhaps a Death Eater had come to curse them after all.   
  
Instead, it was Tonks who appeared in the doorway.  
  
The trio breathed sighs of relief and lowered their wands.  
  
"Tonks!" Hermione cried out. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on the lookout!"  
  
"I was," Tonks replied. "But I had to come in here and find you three, because..."  
  
"What's going on out there?" Ron asked, before Tonks could finish her sentence. "Any sign of Voldemort?"  
  
"None," Tonks told them. "But the giants finally arrived. I saw them land on the island. I think they've scared the Dementors off...most of them were floating away across the ocean. The last I saw, Dumbledore and Lupin were getting rid of the hundred or so that were left, and Arthur and Kingsley are trying to revive those who fainted or collapsed." She shivered. "I've never seen so many of them before in my life. We Aurors have been trained to deal with them, of course, but they still creep me out."  
  
Harry frowned. "Tonks, why did you have to come inside to find us?"  
  
Tonks widened her eyes. "Oh yeah!" she exclaimed, pulling out a letter from inside her robes. "Your owl just delivered this letter, and I thought you should know about it at once."  
  
Harry's insides squirmed uncomfortably as he glimpsed the letter, and Ron and Hermione gave him confused glances. What was Hedwig doing all the way out here? It must've taken her an awfully long time to find him.  
  
"Who's the letter from? What does it say?" Harry demanded at once. His heart was pounding, and he knew full well that Tonks wouldn't have come to all the trouble to find him unless it was serious.  
  
Tonks just gave him a look. "Oh Harry," she said, hesitating a little. "It's Elle."  
  
Harry looked at Tonks, and he understood at once. His heartbeat sped up, and strangely, he felt more nervous now than he had back at the entrance to Voldemort's mansion. He tore open the letter, read it quickly, then let it drop to the floor. Ron still looked lost.  
  
"What?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between Harry and Tonks. "What's happened?"  
  
Neither of them answered. Tonks gave Harry a slightly distressed look.  
  
"She needs you, Harry," she told him, almost sadly.  
  
Harry silently began to panic. Was Elle really having the baby now? She must be completely panicked! If Voldemort wasn't there to face him, then Harry wasn't going to spend his entire life chasing him. He had to get to Elle, and fast.  
  
"Where is she?" he asked Tonks, racing for the dungeon door.  
  
"St. Mungo's!" Tonks replied, herself, Hermione, and Ron chasing after him. "You can't Apparate from here, but there's a boat waiting for you to take you across. I gave your owl to Minerva- the poor thing must've been flying for hours. But Harry, you've got to hurry!"  
  
Harry wheeled around, sensing the panic in Tonks' voice. "Are you scared for Elle?" he asked, wondering if there was anything else she should be telling him.  
  
Tonks shook her head. "No," she replied distractedly, leading the way to the main room where they had encountered all those Dementors. "I'm scared for you. Or rather, scared for what Elle's going to do to you if you don't get there in time!"

 

* * *

 

"There, there, just breathe through it," Healer Donovan coached Elle softly, as Elle gripped her hands tightly.  
  
Elle felt extremely drained, but at least she could tell that this would all be over soon-the contractions were intense and coming one right after the other with hardly a break of relief in between. She tried her hardest to just relax and take a couple of deep breaths, but she couldn't do it. She let out a loud yell of aggravation.  
  
Healer Donovan checked her watch. "Only a little bit longer now," she said soothingly, pushing Elle's sweaty blonde hair back for her and dabbing at her forehead with a damp washcloth.   
  
Elle tried not to cry out anymore. She was grateful for her Healer’s maternal efforts, but wished more than anything that her mom could be there...she wished Harry could be there...she wished that  _someone_  could be there.   
  
"What if Harry’s in danger?" Elle wondered. "Or..." she became filled with insufferable dread. "What if he's dead?"  
  
"Nonsense," Healer Donovan assured her. "He'll be alright. And so will you."  
  
She checked her watch again, and glanced cautiously at Elle, who was staring nervously out of the dark, rain-drenched window as if hoping beyond hope that Harry would appear there.  
  
"Elle, I know you're worried about Harry, but right now I need to you to concentrate on delivering this baby," she said, trying to sound encouraging. "You’ve been so strong, and now it's time. You can do this."  
  
Elle looked hesitant. “I think we should wait for Harry.”  
  
Healer Donovan looked exasperated. "It could take him quite a long time to get here, and this baby is not going to wait that long! Now, on the next contraction, I want you to push, alright?”  
  
Elle glanced toward the other Healers. They both nodded. It was time.  
  
Elle closed her eyes and braced herself. "I’m ready," she said. "But, um, is it too late to ask for those pain potion refills?”  
  
The Healers all exchanged looks.  
  
“Yes,” they replied in unison.   
  



	43. Forever Changed Part II

Getting to the hospital seemed to take forever. Suddenly, Harry felt horrible for even going on the stupid expedition with the Order in the first place. The only thing that mattered now was Elle and their child. He couldn't begin to fathom what she was going through.   
  
After dashing way ahead of Ron, Hermione, and Tonks, he had traveled as fast as he could across the horrendous waters that surrounded Voldemort's mansion, and as soon as he had arrived on the other side, he jumped off the boat, handed his sword over to McGonagall, and immediately Apparated to St. Mungo's.   
  
Now, after checking with the snooty Welcome Witch in the lobby, he was running through the corridors and up the stairs so fast that he was out of breath.  
  
"Elle!" Harry managed to shout as he burst into the hospital room, and anxiously rushed towards her bedside. She instantly turned towards him, her face a mixture of exhaustion and surprise.   
  
"Harry!" she cried, her voice cracking emotionally.  
  
Harry immediately bent down to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. After they finished kissing, Harry took a deep breath and eyed her in a panic. She looked incredibly worn out; her face was terribly flushed, and her hair and forehead were drenched with sweat, but other than that Harry thought she looked wonderful.  
  
"You look beautiful," was the first thing he said to her.  
  
Elle stared at him, as if fearful for his mental stability. "Are you on drugs?" she asked in utter disbelief, leaning back against a bunch of pillows.  
  
There was a pause. Harry couldn't believe that after a month,  _these_  were the first words they were saying to each other.

“I don’t think so,” he asked, eyeing her warily. “Are you?”

“Unfortunately not,” Elle said grimly.   
  
"I'm so sorry," he panted, trying to catch his breath, because Elle was now looking at him oddly. "I tried to get here as fast as I could, I got your letter..."  
  
Elle silenced him as she shook her head. "It's okay," she whispered quietly. “You’re here now.” 

“I’m here now,” Harry confirmed, pushing back her damp hair and kissing her forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Elle sighed in relief and gave Harry’s hand a squeeze. “I’m so glad you made it in time,” she whispered. “What happened with the giants, and Voldemort? Is everyone okay? I need to know if…”

“Stop,” Harry insisted. “Don’t worry about that now. Let’s focus on having our baby okay?” 

Elle gave a small laugh, mixed with a slight sob. 

“Okay,” she said, squeezing his hand again.

A powerful, painful contraction hit, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to scare Harry, but she couldn’t help it and cried out. Healer Donovan whispered something to the two assistants, who both nodded and began tightening their gloves.

Harry winced as he looked at Elle whimpering in pain. He couldn’t believe she had been going through this all night, and wished more than anything that he could help her. He turned to the Healer. 

“Can we get her something for the pain?” he asked, slightly desperately. 

Healer Donovan sighed and shook her head.

“I’m sorry Mr. Potter, it’s time for her to push. Plus, she destroyed our entire stock of pain-relief potions we were planning to use earlier,” she continued, sounding exasperated. “A witch’s magic during unimaginable stress or discomfort can be quite…unpredictable.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at his wife. Her face was screwed up in pain, and she was determinedly taking deep breaths. Though she was holding onto Harry’s hand tightly, he could tell that her mind was focused on her body. Harry didn’t want to break her concentration, but he also knew that she needed him to ease the agony. Well, Harry didn’t know that much about childbirth, but he knew the best way to ease Elle’s mind. 

“You destroyed the pain-relief potions?” he asked, in a chiding tone. “Well, this is your own fault then, isn’t it?” 

The contraction finally ended and Elle looked up at Harry in indignation. 

“I just wanted to save the worst contractions for you, dear,” she replied sarcastically. “And if I might add, this is more YOUR fault than mine.”

Harry grinned. A strange sort of calm had suddenly washed over him. He knew Elle didn’t need a frantic husband right now, and he was more than happy to release some of the tension in the room while she concentrated on giving birth. After all, Elle was the one who had taught him that sometimes it was best to ease the seriousness of a situation. 

“ _That_ couldn’t possibly have been the worst contraction,” he said lightly, watching the Healers out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, it didn’t seem that bad to me.”

Elle gritted her teeth. “Oh, so you get a few hits with the Cruciatus Curse and you’re a pain expert now, are you?” she asked dryly.  

Harry laughed. He saw the main Healer and an older assistant crouch down at the foot of Elle’s bed, while a younger assistant Healer approached Elle from the other side. The young Healer gently took Elle’s other hand and nodded to Harry, silently suggesting he do the same. Harry gave her a nod and gripped Elle’s other hand even more tightly. 

Elle noticed the new positions the Healers had assumed, and her eyes widened a little in fear.

“Harry…” she whimpered, suddenly sounding scared despite her earlier bravado. “Harry, I can’t…”

“Don’t look at them, look at me,” Harry insisted, and Elle reluctantly tore her eyes from everyone else in the room. “What do you mean you can’t?” he asked, a bit heatedly. “I may not have been here all night, but from what I understand, you’ve done pretty damn well so far. This is the last bit, isn’t it?”

Elle nodded, and Harry stroked her damp hair with his free hand. 

“You can do this,” he whispered. “You’re the strongest woman I know.” 

“Figures you’d only show up for the main show and then give me a stupid pep talk,” Elle whispered back, but then gave Harry a smile. “Though I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly. 

Healer Donovan looked at the two of them, and gave an encouraging grin. 

“Are you ready?” she asked Elle. “Remember what I said. On the next contraction, bear down and push alright?”

Harry had no idea what this meant, but Elle seemed almost eager at these words. She nodded and propped herself up on the pillows. The room was silent, and then after a few moments pause, Elle’s breathing got harder again. She squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly that he thought it would fall off, and she gave a loud scream of pain. Harry winced again at the sound of her cries, knowing that she couldn’t see his expression with her eyes shut tight.

“Okay, THIS contraction does seem like a bad one,” he conceded fairly.

“You think?” Elle gasped out after a minute, falling back against the pillows, but knowing she wasn’t done yet. “How was that?” she asked her Healer.

Healer Donovan checked her quickly and nodded enthusiastically. “That was a great practice push!” she said brightly. “Next time, give a nice big one, okay?”

Elle and Harry both groaned.

“That was only for practice?” Harry asked incredulously. “Maybe I should leave again and just come back when you’re TRULY ready…”

“No!” Elle shouted. “Just, shut up please, okay? Let me concentrate.”

Her breathing was getting harder again, and Harry, catching on to the signs, knew another contraction was about to hit. Sure enough, Elle soon let out another scream and appeared to be pushing with all her might. Every muscle in her body tensed, and her hands glowed despite them being held by the Healer and Harry. The lights in the room flickered dangerously again. Healer Donovan threw Harry a sharp look.

“Calm her down!” she mouthed insistently. Harry swallowed and nodded. 

“Hey, do you think you can quiet it down a little?” Harry joked to his wife. “Some of us have had a rough night, and your screams are way too loud.”

The lights ceased their flickering as Elle looked at him incredulously, and then to everyone’s surprise, she gave a laugh. She was so relieved at Harry’s presence, and the fact that the pain would soon be over, that she felt almost giddy.

“I love you,” she said, smiling at Harry through her sweaty strands of hair. “I’m sorry for strangling your hand.” 

Harry laughed too. The Healers were all smiling as well, which was a good sign.

“I love you, too,” he said. “And why are you apologizing about my hand? Aren’t women supposed to be punching their husbands and cursing them when they’re having babies?” 

Elle grinned as best she could and shook her head. “I’m just happy you’re alive,” she said simply. “This is exactly why I needed you to be here! Thanks for being so relaxed.” 

Harry sighed. “It’s all an act,” he said truthfully, as his former sense of calm started to fade. “I’m not going to lie, this is pretty nerve-wracking Elle. I hate seeing you in pain.”

“It is nerve-wracking,” she agreed, breathing in and out deeply. She propped herself up on the pillows. “But try to keep it together for me, okay? I think I can do this now.”

Harry stayed silent throughout her next few contractions, letting Elle concentrate on pushing. He rubbed her back after each one, knowing she was too tired to speak. His hand had long become numb, but he didn’t care. He occasionally brushed a few strands of hair across her face, and grinned as the Healers kept shouting words of encouragement. 

Finally, he heard the Healer shout, “Almost there, one more push!”

Elle let a small whimper of exhaustion. Harry could tell she was completely spent, and he rubbed her shoulder comfortingly with his free hand.  

“You can do this,” he whispered. His heart was now beating erratically. “Although I’m going to be seriously angry at this kid for causing you so much pain…” 

Elle knew he was joking and let out a tired laugh. She patiently waited for the next wave of pressure, and when it hit, she didn’t scream. She held her breath, and pushed silently, and took in the words of reassurance from her bedside cheerleading team.

Finally, with one last yell, Elle fell back against the pillows again. Harry waited with bated breath during what felt like the longest five seconds of his life. Then, he heard the unmistakable wail of a baby’s cry, and a wave of joy washed over him. It was an emotion that was only exemplified by Elle’s Healer standing up, beaming, with a pink, wriggly newborn in her arms.

“It’s a girl!” she announced happily. “A healthy, beautiful baby girl!”

“Yes!” Harry shouted in triumph, as Elle let go of his hand and began to breathe more easily. “Elle, you did it!” 

He leant over to kiss her. They both beamed, and Elle could feel herself on the verge of sobbing with relief.

“We did it,” she murmured quietly, as if in a daze. She turned to Harry with watery eyes. “You’re a dad!”

Harry grinned and kissed her again.

“You did so good, Elle,” he said softly. “You’re amazing, truly.”

At that moment, he heard movement behind him, and quickly turned around only to find that the Healer was now coming towards them with a tiny bundle of cream-colored blankets in her hands. Harry's stomach gave a small leap as he eyed the bundle and the woman holding it, who was smiling warmly at them.  
  
"Would you like to meet your daughter?" the Healer asked, gently handing the small bundle to Elle.  
  
Elle took it with slightly shaking hands, and together she and Harry looked down upon the tiny baby wrapped cozily inside the blankets.Harry and Elle then looked at each other, and both broke out in wide grins. Harry felt as if he had just downed ten gallons of butterbeer. If needed, he could probably produce fifty Patronuses on the spot.  
  
Elle's face was full of relief. "Thank you, Healer Donovan," she told the woman quietly.  
  
The lady gave her a warm smile. "I couldn't be happier for you." She turned to Harry. “Your wife was quite the champion tonight, Mr. Potter.”  
  
Harry grinned at Elle. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly.  
  
Healer Donovan dabbed at her eyes, before turning to leave the room. "I'll be back shortly," she informed them softly. "You three should have some time alone."  
  
Elle smiled, though she was no longer looking at the woman. She was looking down at the baby in her arms as though hardly daring to believe that it was real, and Harry couldn't blame her. It was kind of surreal to think that this morning he had woken up, prepared to battle to the death with Voldemort, and instead had ended up in the hospital looking down at his newborn baby girl.  
  
The baby, who was now curled up among the blankets with a peaceful expression on her face, had what were unmistakably a few thin strands of dark, raven colored hair already gathering on the top of her head. Harry realized that their child had Elle's nose, dimples, and eyes the same exquisite shade of green that him and Elle both shared.  
  
"Can you believe it?" Elle whispered to Harry, balancing the baby and looking up at him. "We're parents now."  
  
"I know," Harry said, feeling just as overwhelmed and elated as Elle. "And we have a daughter."  
  
"She’s so pretty," Elle remarked, smiling. "Look at her hair!”  
  
“Look at her eyes!”  
  
“She has the cutest cheeks!”  
  
“She has the softest skin!”  
  
“Should we count her fingers and toes?” Elle asked.  
  
“Nah, I already counted them. Seven fingers on each hand, I’m sure that’s totally normal,” Harry replied.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes, and Harry grinned.  
  
"She's perfect," he said fondly, moving his gaze onto Elle. "And so are you."  
  
Elle laughed a little. “I love you," she said in a whisper.  
  
"I love you too," Harry said, brushing a hand against her cheek.  
  
"Do you want to hold her?" Elle asked, holding up the tiny baby girl.  
  
Harry nodded eagerly and reached out his arms, and Elle carefully placed the baby into them. As Harry held the baby up to the light, he realized just how beautiful she was. It was a wonderful feeling, holding his child for the first time. The baby gave a small sigh and snuggled into his armpit, content.   
  
"Okay," came Elle's voice a few minutes later. "You're hogging her now. It's my turn to hold her."  
  
"I've only been holding her for ten seconds," Harry protested, not wanting to give the baby up so easily.  
  
"Come on Harry, I've just spent the last eleven hours screaming in pain. Let me hold my daughter." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I am her mother, after all."  
  
Harry laughed. "Alright, you win," he said, handing the child back to her as carefully as he could. The baby shifted a little amongst her blankets, but otherwise remained peaceful.   
  
Elle shook her head slightly as she cradled the bundle of blankets, her eyes growing misty.

"I still can't believe how lucky we are. How is it possible to love someone so much, so quickly?" Elle asked softly, gazing down at her child and gently stroking her face.  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "But then again, I don't think anyone really knows."  
  
"Are we too late?" came a cautious voice from the door.  
  
Harry and Elle both looked up towards the open doorway and saw Hermione and Ron standing there, grinning broadly at the sight of them.  
  
"Ron! Hermione! You guys came!" Elle said delightedly, her face glowing. “And you’re both alright!”   
  
"Of course we came," Ron said lightly, walking over to them. "Did you honestly think we wouldn't follow Harry here as soon as we found out the news? Besides, the Healer outside told us it was safe to come in.”   
  
Harry grinned again, feeling happier than he had ever felt in his life. "Well," he said gladly, "You're just in time."  
  
"Wow," Hermione said softly, as she stared at the baby in Elle's arms, her face full of awe. "Is that..."  
  
"Yes," Elle said proudly, her eyes gleaming. "This is our daughter."  
  
"A girl?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows at Harry. Harry nodded.  
  
"Man, are you guys in trouble," he said with a laugh, leaning in to get a closer look at the baby. The baby cooed softly as she gazed curiously up at Ron and Hermione, blinking her large green eyes. Elle's heart melted.  
  
"She's so pink and squishy," Ron commented.  
  
"Oh, but she's beautiful," Hermione breathed. "Elle, can I hold her?"  
  
Elle hesitated, but then reminded herself how trustworthy and responsible Hermione was. "Sure," she agreed.  
  
Hermione reached down and warily picked up the baby girl, rocking her back and forth in her arms. The baby cooed contently again, and Harry and Elle beamed at each other.   
  
Hermione smiled down at the infant.  
  
"She's incredible," Hermione told Harry and Elle. "Absolutely incredible."  
  
Ron was staring at Hermione cradling the baby with an odd look in his eyes, and as Hermione bent down to hand the baby back to Elle, he quickly looked away, his face and ears turning a dark shade of red.  
  
"Do you think she knows who we are?" Elle asked Harry.  
  
"You know what?" Harry replied, staring fondly at the newborn. "I think she does."  
  
Hermione shook her head, grinning. "I can't believe how small she is," she observed. She looked at Elle, suddenly becoming concerned. "How are you?" she asked.  
  
Elle shrugged. "I’m fine," she answered simply. All the pain, and the weeks she had spent by herself, didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.  
  
Hermione frowned. "It must have been terrible, being all alone," she said sympathetically.  
  
Elle grinned, her dimples matching the ones on her daughter's cheeks. "It was worth it," she said happily. Harry looked at her and the baby in adoration.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Well, congratulations," she said, giving Harry a hug. "I'm so, so happy for the two of you. You guys are going to make a wonderful mum and dad."  
  
"Thanks," Harry and Elle replied in unison, wearing uncontrollable grins.  
  
"Are you sure that you two don't mind being made godparents?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, of course we don't mind!" Hermione answered gleefully. "I think it's wonderful!"  
  
Ron, who had been quiet throughout this whole little charade, made a slight choking noise, and all three of them looked at him in surprise. Ron gave a feeble smile, his entire face turning the color of an overripe tomato.  
  
"Ron, are you okay?" Elle asked, frowning slightly.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, fine," Ron mumbled looking at the ground.  
  
Harry tilted his head. "What's up, mate?" he asked.  
  
Ron swallowed noisily. "Actually," he said, looking up at Hermione. "I wanted to ask you something."  
  
Hermione looked surprised. "You're speaking to me now?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.  
  
Harry and Elle remained quiet, both intensely interested in what was going on. Elle sat up a little bit more, adjusting the weight of the baby to her other arm and looking at Ron and Hermione with slightly narrowed eyes.  
  
Ron looked back down at the tiled floor.

"Yes," he said, sighing. "Listen Hermione, I've been a fool. I'm sorry that I didn't make a very good boyfriend, and I'm sorry that I haven't exactly lived up to all your expectations, but I want you to know that I still love you, and that I never wanted us to be apart.”  
  
Hermione's eyes grew wide. "I know that Ron, and it's not about my expectations..."  
  
"I know you deserve something better than the relationship we had," Ron continued, cutting her off. "You deserve someone better than me. But Hermione, I love you more than anything in the world, and I'm asking you to please, please...just give me another chance."  
  
Hermione bit her lip. "Ron, I love you too...”  
  
"Marry me," Ron said suddenly, his face turning quickly from red to gray.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, completely shocked.  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open, and Elle nudged him hard with her elbow to keep him from blurting out something stupid.  
  
Ron knelt on the floor, taking Hermione's hand in his. Hermione looked as if she were about to faint.  
  
"I want you to marry me, Hermione," he said quietly. "I know these past of couple of months...well, years actually...have been completely crazy, and I know that right now everything seems really out of control, and that we're probably going to have to wait awhile for any sort of wedding, but I can't imagine going through another day of my life without you in it."  
  
He gulped. "I don't even have a ring," he admitted sheepishly. "I just realized tonight that even with everything going on, you are the most important thing in my life right now. And I love you Hermione, and I want us to get married." He looked up at her nervously. "That is, if you'll have me," he murmured.  
  
The room was silent. The only sounds were those being made by the baby, who was now gurgling peacefully and squirming around in Elle's arms, blinking up at the light fixture on the ceiling.   
  
Hermione was staring at Ron with a look Harry had never seen in her before.  
  
"Oh Ron," she said tenderly, her eyes watering. "I'm the one who's been a fool. It was stupid of me to break up with you...it's just, I don't really know why, but it felt like something was missing." She smiled. "But during these last couple of months I've been miserable, and I realize now that...well, don't laugh, but I was looking for something that was already right in front of me." She hesitated. "Do you get what I'm saying?"  
  
Ron shook his head. "Not really," he replied honestly.  
  
Hermione laughed, and wiped her eyes quickly on her sleeve, before looking hastily down at Ron again.  
  
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, laughing as well. "For the cleverest witch of our time, you certainly aren't making any sense."  
  
"Yeah," said Elle, smiling delicately and adjusting the blankets surrounding the baby, whom she couldn't seem to stop looking at. "Just give us an answer already."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, though she was grinning. "Oh shut up, the pair of you," she said, holding her breath and gazing at Ron, who was looking much more confident now that the mood seemed to have lightened.  
  
“They think they know everything, now that they’re parents,” Ron joked. He raised his eyebrows. "Well?" he asked anxiously, staring up at Hermione.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath. "Yes Ron," she said, beaming almost as wide as Harry and Elle. "I'll marry you. Of course, I will!"  
  
"YES!" Ron exclaimed, getting up and throwing his arms around Hermione. They kissed, and Harry and Elle cheered and clapped in celebration.  
  
The baby appeared startled by this sudden outburst of excitement, and instantly began wailing and crying at the top of her lungs, scaring Elle half to death. Harry immediately stopped clapping, and before Elle could say anything, he took the baby out of her arms and held her, being careful to watch her head.   
  
Once in Harry's arms, the child settled down at once and became content and peaceful yet again, snuggling against Harry's chest.  
  
"Hey," Elle said, looking crossly at Harry. "How come she stops crying when she goes to you? My maternal instinct was about to take over.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "We'll see about the maternal instinct," he said, bending down and kissing Elle once more before she could object any further. "Well, congrats, you two!" he called to Ron and Hermione as he stood back up again.  
  
Hermione and Ron had finally broken apart from their lip lock, and they looked happier than Harry had seen them in ages.  
  
"Thank you," Hermione smiled, holding onto Ron's hand and tearing up slightly.  
  
"Well," said Ron jubilantly, the color of his face returning to normal. "This has certainly been one crazy night."  
  
"It has, " Elle added, her fatigue (which had been postponed ever since laying eyes on her baby girl) coming back to hit her full in the face. She closed her eyes and leant back against the pillows, letting the full weight of all the night's events wash over her.  
  
"But most of all," Hermione said, eyeing the baby in Harry's arms. "This night has been fantastically life-changing."  
  
"You're right", Harry said, smiling down at his daughter. "All of our lives are forever changed from this point on."  
  
"Hey," said Ron suddenly, hit with a new realization. "You two never told us the baby’s name.”

At these words, Elle's eyes flew wide open, and her and Harry eyed each other in a panic.  
  
"I was waiting for you..." Harry started hastily.  
  
"...and I was waiting for you!" finished Elle, her face paling.  
  
"We forgot to pick out a name!"  
  



	44. Big Adjustments and Even Bigger Problems

After summoning every baby name book Harry and Elle owned from their flat, Ron and Hermione decided they'd better head home, assuring Harry and Elle they'd come back to the hospital the next day to visit. They left the room hand-in-hand, both grinning stupidly at the other.   
  
Thankfully, Harry didn't have time to dwell on Hermione and Ron- he and Elle had bigger issues to tackle.  
  
They lied next to each other on the hospital bed with the baby between them, poring relentlessly over the books they had leafed through and marked before Harry had left for the mountains, trying to find their favorite girl names.  
  
"Is there any specific name that you remember?" Harry asked, as Elle threw down  _Magical Names for your Newborn Witch or Wizard_  with a look of frustration.  
  
"Not really," she said, frowning and shifting the baby to lean on her other arm. The baby let out a soft noise of displeasure at being moved, but settled down within seconds and snuggled deeper within the blankets. "I remember noticing a unique name," Elle continued. "You know, something original."  
  
"Of course," Harry said, half laughing. "Well, that shouldn't be too difficult to find."  
  
Elle sighed. "Try looking in this one," she said, shoving him a book simply entitled  _Baby Names and Their Origins._  
  
Harry picked it up and rifled through it. "Which letter did it start with?" he asked Elle.  
  
Elle closed her eyes. "Q."  
  
"You've got to be joking," Harry said.  
  
"X."  
  
"Elle..."  
  
"Alright, alright." She pondered her options carefully. "C," she finally said, opening her eyes.  
  
Harry sighed and flipped to the "C" page, where a bunch of names were highlighted and some were crossed out entirely.   
  
"Caffara?" he tried, reading off the first unusual name he could find.  
  
Elle stared at him. "No. But what does that mean?" she asked.  
  
Harry squinted down at the box next to the name, where it listed the meaning.

"Helmet," he read aloud.  
  
Elle shook her head. "Hard pass on that one," she said.  
  
"Caitlyn?" he suggested.  
  
Elle thought for a moment. "It's pretty," she decided. "But no, that wasn't it.”  
  
“Cecilia?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Caroline?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Corinne?”  
  
“Keep going.”  
  
"Hey, here's one,” Harry said. “Is it...Calla? You've highlighted it AND drew tiny hearts all around it."  
  
"Yes," Elle smiled. "I liked that name a lot. What does it mean?"  
  
"It’s Greek," Harry said, consulting the book again. "It means beauty.”  
  
"Beauty?" Elle repeated, smiling.  
  
"I know," Harry said, shrugging. "A bit cliché. At least it's unusual. I've never heard of anybody with that name before. How do you pronounce it, like, the flower?”   
  
"Yes, like the flower. Calla Lily Potter," Elle said aloud, testing to see how it sounded once spoken, adding in the previously agreed upon middle name.  
  
"I think it’s a good name," Harry said, closing the book.  
  
"And what about you?" Elle asked, holding up the baby and smiling down at her. "Is Calla a good name?"  
  
The baby didn't answer; she merely gurgled. Harry and Elle both laughed.  
  
"Alright," Elle said decisively, as if the baby had just confirmed her choice. "Calla it is."  
  
"An excellent choice, if I do say so myself," came a sudden voice.  
  
Harry and Elle both looked up and glanced over towards the open hospital room door in surprise.  
  
"Hello Professor," Elle said, a bit shocked. She glanced down slightly to make sure she was fully under the covers.   
  
"Hello Elle," Dumbledore said, returning her smile and nodding in Harry's direction. "I hear you two have something to celebrate."  
  
"Yes," Elle said, cradling the baby. "This is our daughter, Calla."  
  
"I see", Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling down at the tiny baby. "And what a beautiful little girl she is. You two must be very proud."  
  
Elle grinned, but Harry looked up at Dumbledore inquiringly. "Why are you here?" he asked, then realized that sounded rude. "I mean, uh, what's going on with Voldemort?" he stammered quickly. "Why wasn't he at the mansion? Where did he go? And where did all those Dementors come from?"  
  
Elle was looking back and forth between Harry and Dumbledore with narrowed eyes.   
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked eagerly, plainly trying to grasp what was going on. "You mean you didn't fight him? And what happened with the giants?"  
  
"Well, the giants agreed to help us," Harry said, deciding to fill Elle in first, since she had missed out on so much. "But when we finally got to Voldemort's hideout, the place was empty. All we found were a couple hundred Dementors planning to suck our souls dry."  
  
Elle was listening to him with her mouth slightly open. "You mean after all that, Voldemort and his Death Eaters fled?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yep," Harry said heavily. He looked at Dumbledore again. "We did manage to get rid of all the Dementors, didn’t we?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, well, I'm delighted to say that the arrival of the giants startled them, and they flew off at once." He shook his head. "I knew joining forces with the giants would have to pay off somehow," he said, somewhat wearily.  
  
"So, where are the Order now?" Elle asked nervously. "Is everybody okay?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Everybody's fine," he assured her, in a slightly gentler voice than he had used before. "I'm sure that after a vast amount of chocolate frogs, nobody should suffer any lasting damage. The entire mansion has been thoroughly searched, and there appears to be no sign of Death Eaters, or Voldemort, anywhere. Until further notice, I have advised everyone to return home, and to remain patient."  
  
"Do you have any idea where Voldemort could be now?" Harry asked Dumbledore pointedly, hoping that he did. To his disappointment, Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"I'm afraid not," he said, rather bluntly. " It is my guess that Voldemort fled so that we wouldn't have a chance to take his army by surprise. If I know one thing, it's that Voldemort likes to be prepared. He requires a well-built plan, and when things don't fit in with his plan, he becomes...well...most displeased."  
  
Dumbledore sighed again. "Taking him by surprise was, of course, my intention, and although fleeing was a cowardly move on his part, it was, nevertheless, effective."  
  
"Yeah," said Elle. "Now  _he_ can take  _us_  by surprise.”  
  
Dumbledore looked at them calmly, stroking his beard. "Well, like I said, it is my purpose to find out exactly where he is as soon as possible.”  
  
Harry shook his head slowly. "Let's just hope that we find him before he finds us."  
  
“That’s the reason I decided to visit you both tonight, instead of waiting for a more reasonable hour,” Dumbledore explained. “I was afraid he may have gotten news of the birth, and that your child would be in danger.” He sighed. “Luckily, it seems the Healers have assisted in the secret-keeping quite effectively. For how much longer that will be…”   
  
He trailed off, and there was a tense, prolonged silence.   
  
The baby must have sensed the unfamiliar tension in the room, because she soon began crying again. Elle instantly held the infant closer to her and attempted to soothe the child, but after a couple of minutes or so, the cries persisted. Elle threw Harry a desperate glance, and Harry took the child from her, awkwardly holding the baby against his chest and moving her slowly back and forth.  
  
"Unbelievable," Elle said, smiling softly at Harry as the baby slowly quieted down and closed her eyes, obviously comfortable in this new arrangement. "That's the second time she's stopped crying once you've held her. Who would've thought you'd have a way with children, Potter?"  
  
Harry gave a small laugh. "I know," he said, staring down at Calla, who now seemed to be dozing peacefully. "Weird."  
  
Dumbledore beamed at them. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall would like to know what exceptional parents you two are turning out to be already," he said approvingly. "It would certainly ease her mind. It was she, of course, who informed me where you had gone.”  
  
"I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly," Harry apologized, being careful not to move his arms too much and wake the baby.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "Not at all, not at all." he said dismissively. "I daresay you had a good enough excuse."  
  
"Yeah..." Harry said, thinking over all the stuff that Dumbledore had told them. "Wait a second. You said you searched the whole mansion, right? Did you search the dungeon?"  
  
Dumbledore looked mildly surprised. "You know what was in the dungeon?" he asked quietly.  
  
Harry nodded. "Hermione, Ron, and I found the door that led down there.”  
  
Elle was listening to them talk with rapt attention, though she didn't interrupt. Dumbledore was gazing at Harry thoughtfully.  
  
"Well then," he said slowly. "You know that there was an empty cauldron..."  
  
"But Sir, it wasn't always empty!" Harry said quickly, still being careful not to move, though his pulse was quickening. At this rate, he was sure to have a heart attack by morning. "The three of us were examining it, and we saw blood on the outside. We think someone was brewing a potion in there."  
  
Dumbledore didn't look as stunned as Harry thought he would be. "Well naturally, I thought the same thing," he admitted to Harry. "I told Professor Snape to take the cauldron with him, so that perhaps he could figure out exactly what sort of potion they were planning on using, or might have already used."  
  
"Well, then you better tell him this," Harry said hurriedly. "Hermione found a piece of parchment lying on the floor next to the cauldron with the words 'Validus Cruor' written on it. It was almost as though those words were left on purpose, as a warning.”  
  
Harry watched Dumbledore's expression, but instead of amazement, he continued to look pensive.  
  
"Do you know what that means? Have you ever heard of it before?" Harry asked eagerly.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "But I will inform Severus at once. Perhaps he has heard of it."  
  
"Validus Cruor is Latin," Elle said suddenly. "I recognize the words from one of my father's old books."  
  
"Hermione said it was Latin too. Do  _you_  know what it means?" Harry asked her.  
  
She shook her head sadly. "Sorry," she replied.   
  
Harry sighed. "Hermione said that the word 'Cruor' translated into 'blood'.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "I'll certainly pass on the information to Professor Snape. Hopefully this will give us some clue as to where the Dark Lord currently resides."  
  
Elle, since her arms were now free, leaned back against the pillows. She was growing more exhausted by the second.   
  
"You know, sooner or later, we're going to have to call in for reinforcements," she said.  
  
Harry had to laugh. "What?" he asked.  
  
"You know, back-up," Elle explained. "You have to admit that we could use some.”  
  
"But we have back-up!" Harry told her. "Hello? The giants? The Aurors? The house elves?”  
  
"I meant like more wizards," Elle said, clearly too tired to explain herself more thoroughly. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt to get some foreigners involved."  
  
"Why?" Harry asked, utterly confused as to what she was getting at.  
  
"Well, what if Voldemort fled to another country?" Elle argued. "Wouldn't it be better if we had contacts with wizards from other places that could let us know if they've spotted him anywhere?"  
  
"Actually Harry, it's not a bad idea," Dumbledore said, looking at Elle curiously. He glanced at the clock on the hospital room wall, and he raised his eyebrows. "My, my, it is far too late," he said with a sigh.   
  
"Yeah," Harry said." "Listen, when..."  
  
"I will call a meeting for the Order within the next few weeks," Dumbledore assured Harry. "In the meantime, Professor Snape and I will do as much as we can in terms of finding out where Voldemort could be, and what potion he was concocting. I expect the meeting will be at Grimmauld Place, so the three of you won't have to travel all the way to Hogwarts." He grinned at them. "Of course, you might have your hands full."  
  
"Don't worry," Harry said, gazing determinedly down at his sleeping newborn daughter. "We'll be there. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure Voldemort doesn't come anywhere near Calla."  
  
Just then, the hospital room door was flung open yet again, and in walked Healer Donovan.  
  
"Forgive me, Headmaster," she said breathlessly, bustling across the room towards Elle. "But it is extremely late, and the girls need their rest."  
  
"Of course, Abertha," Dumbledore said, giving her a courteous bow. "I thank you for looking after Mrs. Potter on such short notice."  
  
"Oh, not at all," Healer Donovan said, giving Elle a warm smile. "Everything went splendid. Although I must say, for someone who was alone for a month, you sure have a lot of visitors tonight."  
  
"Very well then," Dumbledore said, straightening up and preparing to exit the room. "I will be on my way." He gave Harry and Elle one last, congratulatory smile.  
  
"That is one extraordinary child you have there," he told them softly. "I wish you three the best of luck."  
  
"Thanks Professor," Harry said. "We'll see you at the meeting."  
  
Dumbledore headed slowly for the door. "By the way, Abertha, you look astounding," he said simply. “Is that a new haircut?”  
  
Healer Donovan looked flattered. "Why, yes...well, all thanks to Elle," she said, giving her an amusing smile. Elle winked conspiratorially.   
  
Once Dumbledore had gone, Healer Donovan turned her attention back to Elle. "Come, now," she said sharply. "It's about time you've had some rest."  
  
"But the baby!" Elle and Harry both exclaimed at once.  
  
"Your daughter will be fine," Healer Donovan assured them. "She'll spend the night in the St. Mungo's nursery, where she'll be looked after by our top Healers, myself included. You'll be able to see her first thing tomorrow morning.”  
  
"Why can't I look after her for tonight?" Harry demanded, not wanting to hand Calla over to some woman he barely knew.  
  
"Because Mr. Potter, you need your rest as well," Healer Donovan said exasperatedly. "Not every new father spends his days chasing after evil Dark Lords. I suggest you go on home, and…"  
  
"I'm staying here," Harry said stubbornly. After spending a month away from Elle, he wasn't going to leave her again so soon.  
  
"Oh, very well," Healer Donovan sighed. She took out her wand, but Elle held up a hand to stop her.  
  
"I'll do it," she said, pointing a finger towards a spot on the floor right next to her bed. A jet of green light blasted out from the tip of her finger and a large, comfortable sofa appeared. Harry looked quickly to check whether this woke up the baby, but Calla looked just as calm and peaceful as ever.  
  
Harry still didn't want to let her go, but Elle gently touched his arm and whispered, "It's okay Harry, we can trust her. Calla will be safe."  
  
Reluctantly, Harry handed the bundle of blankets over to the Healer, who gingerly took the child. With a final pat on Elle’s shoulder, she swept from the room.  
  
Sighing, and overcome with exhaustion, Harry sank down onto the sofa Elle had conjured. Now that they were finally alone, Elle allowed herself to fully settle down, and as she closed her eyes she also held out her hand towards Harry, who took it at once.  
  
"Harry, about everything that's happened today..." Elle started softly, but Harry shushed her immediately.  
  
"Not now," he said gently. "Just get some rest. We'll talk in the morning."  
  
Elle smiled a little. "Are you sure you're still going to be here when I wake up?" she asked apprehensively, remembering all too well the horrible feeling she had after waking up to an empty house.  
  
Harry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry," he said. "I’m not leaving the world’s best mother ever again.”   
  
Elle laughed. She let go of Harry's hand and turned her cheek against the pillow so that she was facing the opposite wall.

“I wanted my mom so badly tonight,” she confessed to Harry.   
  
Harry smiled. “She would have been so proud of you,” he replied. “I know I am. You’re the reason we now have a beautiful and healthy daughter.” Harry suddenly turned stern. “But it won’t do Calla any good if you don’t sleep.”  
  
Elle nodded in understanding. "Night, then" she whispered.  
  
Harry sighed, and tried to get as comfortable as he could on the sofa. "Night, love" he whispered back.  
  
Slow, steady breathing came from the bed, and by the sound of it, he could tell that Elle was already fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, that one night in the hospital would be the most sleep Harry and Elle got for the next few weeks. After a quick course on nursing (and some free formula in case the nursing didn’t work out), a quick reminder on the safety of Apparating with babies, and a list of what to do when magical symptoms first appeared, Harry and Elle were promptly discharged from St. Mungo’s.

Elle gave her Healer a hug, and they both dawdled a little in the main lobby. Truth be told, they had no idea what to do with their new baby now that she was here, and weren’t eager to be on their own just yet.   
  
They had good reason- from the very second they brought Calla home, there seemed to be non-stop commotion.  
  
Everything they did, or tried to do as new parents, turned out to be an adventure. Even the simplest things such as feeding or bathing Calla were much more difficult than they seemed. Elle gave in after a few tries with nursing and used the formula, which Harry assured her was fine. They practiced swaddling Calla in blankets, baby-proofed the flat, and introduced Hedwig to the baby. And that was just the beginning of their many firsts as new parents.  
  
The first time they tried giving Calla a bath in the sink, Calla had squirmed around and splashed the water so much, that Harry and Elle ended up drenched. Harry didn’t even know if Calla had gotten clean at all.   
  
As Elle pulled the baby out of the sink, soaked to the bone, Harry could see that she was mildly frustrated. But before she could say anything, Calla let out a small tired sigh and snuggled against Elle, enveloped comfortably in the towel that her mother had wrapped around her. Elle smiled, quite forgetting her anger, and Harry let out a laugh as he magically dried the area with a flick of his wand.  
  
After a particularly rough afternoon around the two-week mark, Harry and Elle dropped in to visit Ron and Hermione. Hermione took one look at their desperate faces, and reluctantly put down the book she was reading.  
  
“Do you need me to watch her for a moment?” she asked them, smiling slightly.  
  
“Well, if you don’t mind…” Harry started, feeling like a terrible parent.   
  
“We wouldn’t want to impose…” Elle added, also guilty.  
  
Hermione kept smirking, and held out her arms to accept the baby. Elle and Harry thanked her profusely, promised it would only be for a few minutes, and hurried into the living room where they saw the most beautiful sight- a huge couch with the comfiest throw pillows Harry had ever seen. Ron was already dozing off on one side. Harry was now immediately grateful that Hermione had spent so long picking out couches.  
  
Without wasting a moment, Harry and Elle curled up together on the opposite end of the couch, and both instantly fell asleep. After a few hours, Hermione prodded them awake, deposited the baby back into Elle’s arms, and sent them on their bleary-eyed way. Nevertheless, the nap was heavenly, and Harry couldn’t stop thanking his best friend.   
  
But the most memorable task occurred about three weeks after Calla had been brought home. It was evening, and Ron and Hermione had come over to visit. They had just come from the Burrow, where they finally told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of their engagement, and so Harry and Elle decided to throw them a little celebration.   
  
After springing out about a dozen or so bottles of butterbeer and devouring a delicious, hot meal (provided surprisingly by Elle), they were just about to settle down and get started on dessert when a strange scent drifted over from where Calla was laying in her Auto-Magic Baby Swing.  
  
She was squirming around uncomfortably, trying to break free from the confinements of her swing. As Elle picked her up, the smell got even stronger, and soon the happy chatter that had filled the room dwindled.  
  
"Ah, babies smell so good, don’t they?" Ron joked, setting down the bottle of butterbeer he was holding.  
  
"I think her diaper needs to be changed," Hermione said sensibly, glancing towards Calla.  
  
Elle winced. She had been afraid of that. "Oh," she replied uneasily, gazing at the baby. It was true. Her face was all screwed up, and she looked terribly uncomfortable.   
  
"Here," she said, handing the baby over to Harry. Harry looked up at her, stunned.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"You heard Hermione," Elle said, praying that Harry would cooperate. "Change her diaper."  
  
Harry blinked; he was sure that he had not heard Elle correctly. "You want me to do what?" he asked again.  
  
Elle crossed her arms over her chest. "Harry, Calla's diaper needs to be changed, so I'm asking you to please change it while I clean up."  
  
Harry gave a weak smile. "Why don't you change her, and I'll clean up the kitchen?" he suggested.  
  
Elle took a deep breath. "Come on, Harry," she pleaded. "You know how to swordfight, how hard can it be to change a diaper? We’ve been changing, uh, wet ones every day!”  
  
"I'm not that good at changing diapers," Harry admitted. "It's harder than sword fighting, I swear! Besides, we haven’t had to change that many poo-ey ones, I'm the one who made dinner the last couple of nights, and I set up the baby swing all by myself- without magic. So, it's your turn. You change her."  
  
Elle swallowed.  _Damn_ , she thought.  _He's right_. There was no way of getting out of it now.  
  
She looked beseechingly over towards Ron and Hermione, and saw that they were both on the verge of laughter. Elle bit her lip.  
  
"Alright," Elle obliged, taking the baby back from Harry. "I'll change her this time. But you owe me one."  
  
"Gotcha," Harry said, sounding fully relieved that he was off the hook, and went over to the kitchen to make it seem like he was doing something.  
  
Elle headed off towards the baby's room, where they had just purchased a new changing table complete with diapers, baby wipes, and baby powder. She could handle this. No big deal. It wasn’t like a dirty diaper was a new concept for a newborn, but Elle still hadn’t become entirely used to this new routine yet.   
  
"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Hermione called from the living room.  
  
"No!" Elle yelled back, before closing the door to Calla's room. "I'll be fine, don't worry!"  
  
Ron and Hermione both looked at each other, and then looked at Harry.

"Ten galleons says she has no idea what she's doing," Ron said, after the room was quiet again.  
  
Hermione threw him a look. "Oh Ron, don't say that," Hermione scolded. "At least she's trying."  
  
Hermione stood and began to help Harry clean up, levitating plates over to the sink with her wand. "And you really should start to be more helpful, you know," she informed Harry.  
  
"I am helpful!" Harry said defensively. "I take care of Calla just as much as Elle does, it's not my fault I don't know how to change a diaper that well. It's not exactly something you can learn at Hogwarts, you know!"  
  
"I know," Hermione said calmly. "But I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. You’ve only been a parent for a few weeks, after all. Do you still have that baby book I gave to you? I looked over the chapters; there should be something in there about changing diapers. It wouldn't hurt for you to read it."  
  
"Oh, uh...I'm sure Elle's looked it over," Harry said hesitantly, though he hadn't the faintest idea where the book could be.  
  
Harry cleared his throat, searching his brain for a way to change the subject. "So, Ron, what did your parents say when they found out you two are getting married?" he asked his friend.  
  
Ron and Hermione beamed at each other. "Oh, they were happy enough," Ron answered brightly. "You know my mum, she started crying and saying how fast we were growing up and all that, but my dad was really pleased, and so were my brothers.”  
  
Harry grinned at them. "So when's the wedding?" he asked.  
  
Hermione waved her hand carelessly. "We haven't really worked out the details yet," she remarked evenly. "But it's not like we're in any rush. Besides," she added in a low voice. "There's still Voldemort to consider. We don't even know where he is anymore."  
  
"Well, there's another Order meeting next week," Harry said, suddenly tense. "We'll probably find out more then. But right now, all we can do is wait.”  
  
"Yeah," Ron said with a sigh. "Although I wish this could all just be over with."  
  
"Me too," Hermione agreed anxiously.  
  
Harry was about to inform them that it was what he hoped for every day, when a loud yell sounded from the room just off the hall. All three of them jumped.  
  
"Harry!" they heard Elle scream. "You have to come in here and help me!"  
  
"What's wrong?" Harry shouted back.  
  
"There's poo everywhere!"  
  
 _"What?”_  
  
"Just get in here!"  
  
Five minutes later, Calla was successfully changed and cleaned up, and all four of them were bursting with laughter. Elle, though frustrated again, even managed to laugh at her own feeble attempts at managing a dirty diaper, and from the look on Harry's face she knew that he was never going to let her live it down.  
  
“Number ones are just so much easier,” she sighed.   
  
Ron and Hermione stayed over till after night had fallen, before they both departed by Floo Powder back to their own flat. Calla's eyes were becoming droopy, and the poor thing could barely keep her head up, so Harry and Elle concluded that it was time to put her to bed.  
  
Elle let Harry carry the baby to her crib, and as he gently laid her down Elle covered the baby with a blanket, simultaneously pointing a finger to the tiny night-light levitating right next to the crib. The glow from it bathed the entire room in a warm, bluish light, and the baby cooed sleepily before wrapping her tiny fingers around the blankets and closing her eyes.  
  
Elle and Harry both smiled.  
  
"Sleep tight, my girl," Elle said softly, kissing the baby's cheek. "I love you."  
  
Harry laughed. "Let's go," he whispered, taking Elle's arm and steering her from the room. "We'll see her in a few hours, no doubt."  
  
And so they both turned to leave, pausing for a moment as Elle closed the door gently behind her. They stood standing in the hallway for a moment, silent as could be, before Harry spontaneously picked Elle up and carried her off to the bedroom.  
  
"What are you doing?" Elle hissed. But Harry didn't answer until they reached the bed, and he dropped Elle onto it with a loud thump. Elle laughed, and stretched her arms up over her head. Harry jumped onto the bed next to her.  
  
"Well, what do you know?" Harry said. "We're alone at last."  
  
"Mmm," Elle murmured. "The baby's fast asleep..."  
  
"...And the house is completely quiet," Harry said, putting on what he hoped was a charming smile.  
  
Elle raised her eyebrows. "Want to have a pillow fight?" she asked playfully, picking up a pillow.  
  
Harry laughed. "You know I'd beat you."  
  
"In your dreams," Elle replied. "But I have a better idea." Leaning her face even closer towards him, she kissed him lightly on the lips, running her hands through his hair and rolling comfortably on top of him.  
  
"I've missed you," she whispered softly. “I’ve missed it being just us. Is that terrible?”  
  
"No. I've missed you too," Harry said, running his hands up and down her arms.  
  
He studied her face, staring at the worry lines and dark circles under her eyes that he had never noticed before. "Are you tired?" he asked, suddenly concerned for her health. The closer he looked at her, the more withered and exhausted she appeared.  
  
"A little," Elle responded. "Taking care of a baby is hard work. Why didn’t anyone warn us?" she asked sarcastically.   
  
"I know," Harry said. "But Hermione reckons we'll get the hang of it."  
  
He stared at Elle, wanting to kiss her even more, but just then she yawned big and wide, and Harry knew that they needed their own sleep.  
  
"I think we should go to bed," he said quietly.  
  
Elle smiled at him. "Really?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Really."  
  
Elle sighed and rolled off Harry, burying her face in a pillow. "Okay," she replied. "Night."  
  
After they said their goodnights, a heavy veil of sleep enveloped them, and they both fell into a slumber so deep that it would take a horde of rampaging bulls to wake them.  
  
However, bulls were no match for the sound that chose to interrupt their dreams that night. Traveling through the air from the bedroom across the hall came the sound of a baby's cry, piercing, and demanding, and dully assuring that nobody within ten miles was sure to get any more sleep.  
  
Harry awoke with a start, turning on his back and rubbing his eyes tiredly. He knew this was going to happen. Calla had been waking up every few hours or so, every night, for the past three weeks. Sometimes it was out of hunger, and sometimes she just wanted to be held. He didn't know when she would start to stay asleep longer.   
  
Turning to his side, he saw that Elle was also lying awake. Wordlessly, and without looking at him, she held out her hand.  
  
"Two out of three?" she asked.  
  
Harry sighed. "Let's just make it one for now."  
  
Elle yawned. "Fine," she replied sleepily. Harry held out his hand too.  
  
"On the count of three," he said. "One...two...three..."  
  
"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" they both whispered in unison, shaking their hands. Harry sighed as he covered his "paper" shaped hand over Elle's "rock" shaped fist.  
  
"You lose," he said.  
  
"Alright, I'm going," Elle replied, pushing back the covers, but Harry grabbed her hand to keep her from getting up.  
  
"Never mind," said Harry. "I'll go."  
  
Elle frowned. "But you won!" she argued.  
  
"I know," Harry said, putting on his glasses and standing up. "But you stayed up with her the last couple of nights."  
  
Elle raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?" she asked.  
  
"Positive," he answered. "I don't mind, really. Go back to sleep."  
  
Elle still looked unsure, but she reluctantly got back into bed. “The formula is in the kitchen,” she reminded him, before closing her eyes again.  
  
Harry stepped out of the room and into Calla's nursery, where he could see her screaming and wailing. She was kicking against the blankets, with big fat tears streaming down her distressed face. Harry sighed, and bent down to pick her up.  
  
"It's okay," he whispered, trying as hard as he could to get her to calm down. "It's alright, everything's okay, I'm here..."  
  
Calla seemed to settle down almost at once. However, even though she stopped crying, she still appeared restless, and Harry knew he would have a hard time getting her to go back to sleep.  
  
After filling a bottle and sitting down on the small, cozy armchair situated near the crib, Harry awkwardly held the baby in his arms, trying to get her to close her eyes after eating.  
  
As he gently shook her up and down, he registered dimly how much the baby really did resemble Elle. She definitely had her looks, her nose, and her dimpled smiled. But that jet-black hair…it was the same color as Harry’s.  
  
Harry wanted more than anything to be a good father. He wanted to teach Calla things that no other parent would dare teach their child, and he wanted her to grow up to be brave and strong, and able to defend herself. The last thing he wanted was for her to grow up in a world of fear, a world terrorized by the daily threat of Lord Voldemort.  
  
As Harry reflected on this, he didn't notice at first what his daughter was doing. When he finally snapped to attention, he realized that Calla seemed to be staring at something.  
  
Directing his attention to the wall where she was looking, Harry frowned. There was nothing there. Yet the baby kept on squealing, obviously entranced by some invisible object hovering just inches in front of them. Harry got up and carried her closer to the wall, but he still saw nothing. Utterly bewildered, he looked down at the baby, trying to figure out what in the world held her so captivated.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, though he wasn't expecting for Calla to answer. "What are you looking at?"  
  
Harry swallowed, and looked back towards the wall. Still nothing. But just before he had the chance to get nervous, Hedwig soared into the room from the small open window by the door, dropping a letter at Harry's feet and stopping to land on the dresser- the dresser right in front of the wall Calla had just been staring at.  
  
At the sight of the owl, the baby squealed even louder, gurgling happily. Hedwig hooted softly towards the small baby and ruffled her feathers, but didn't move from her position in front of the wall. Harry was beyond amazed...how in the world had Calla known an owl was going to be there, moments before it arrived?  
  
Bending down slightly, he picked up the letter and tore it open. Surprisingly, he found that it was from McGonagall.  
  
 _Harry,  
I'm writing to inform you and Elle that the next meeting for the Order will take place next Friday afternoon, at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore has much to discuss with everyone. Until then, I advise you both not to leave your place of residence. We are all being watched. I look forward to seeing the two of you at the meeting, and I beg of you, please be careful._  
  
 _Minerva McGonagall_  
  
 _Also, Albus has informed me of your new daughter. Congratulations to you both. It is about time we received some happy news during these dark days._  
  
Harry smiled as he folded up the letter, placing it aside. McGonagall sure acted strict, but when it came down to it, he knew she really did care. Though he had to admit, he was a little unsettled at the first part of the letter. What did she mean by "We are all being watched?” And now him and Elle were under house arrest? Was it possible that Voldemort had found out about Calla?   
  
Sighing again, Harry sat back down on the chair, absentmindedly rocking the baby back and forth. He was still amazed at how his daughter had known Hedwig was going to show up, but right now his thoughts were focused on the letter. Maybe at the meeting, their biggest mysteries would finally be solved.  
  



	45. Capture

Harry and Elle both stood nervously outside the door of Grimmauld Place; Elle with Calla held tight in her arms and Harry holding a small diaper bag down by his side. He felt sort of foolish carrying it, but that didn't matter at the moment. He glanced at Elle, and he saw that her eyes were wide and hesitant.  
  
"Are you sure we're doing the right thing, taking Calla along to the meeting?" Elle asked anxiously, adjusting the small pacifier that was hanging out of the baby's mouth.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Well, it's not as if we could've just left her at home", he replied. “We don’t have a babysitter.”  
  
"I know that," Elle said tentatively. "But maybe I should have just stayed home with her. They’re all going to think I’m showing off, strolling in with a baby.”   
  
"Don't be stupid," Harry said, giving her a small smile. "Dumbledore knows we have to bring her along, and if he had a problem with it, he would have said something. It’s important that we both be here. To hell with everyone else."  
  
Elle sighed, not entirely convinced. "What are people going to say?" she asked Harry, chewing on her lip. "Not that I'm ashamed of Calla, but still...there's going to be so many whispers..."  
  
"Don’t mind them," Harry answered. “You’re a mother now, you can’t keep thinking about other people.”  
  
He had meant for this to be just an offhand comment, but now he realized that he  _did_  care how his friends and professors were going to react to Calla, and how they were going to act around him. Would they think it was strange to see him with a baby? Surely, they would deem him irresponsible- Calla had basically been born with a target on her head, and it was his fault.  
  
As he continued to reflect on this, another thought suddenly occurred to him, and he looked inquisitively towards Elle.  
  
"What?" she asked, seeing the look on his face. Harry took a deep breath.  
  
"I forgot to tell you," he said hastily. "Last week, when I received the letter about today's meeting, something strange was going on with Calla..."  
  
And as he continued explaining to Elle about how their daughter had somehow sensed Hedwig’s presence moments before she arrived, Elle's expression became stonier.  
  
"You know..." Elle said softly, deep in thought. "I noticed something strange about Calla too. A few nights ago, she suddenly became very quiet. I mean, she was screaming her head off just seconds before. Anyway, I was holding her and she was tilting her head towards the window, almost as if she were listening to something. The room was completely silent. It was so weird; it was like she could hear something I couldn't. And then, a couple of minutes later, there was a huge streak of lighting and it started to rain. Then I saw Calla gazing out the window…”  
  
Elle stopped for a moment to take a breath, and then faced Harry with a slightly anxious look. "Harry...she was listening to the rain before it started to fall."  
  
Harry didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he stared down at Calla, who was now lying peacefully in Elle's arms, deeply absorbed in gazing at a nearby bee that was buzzing its way through the dull afternoon sky.  
  
"I wonder what's going on with her?" Harry asked worriedly, shifting his gaze to stare at Elle. "Do you think anything's wrong?"  
  
Elle shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted nervously. "But I was thinking about it, and..." She swallowed hard. "Harry, I think our daughter can tell the future."  
  
At these words, Harry had a fleeting image of Professor Trelawney, in all her fortune-telling, palm-reading, crystal ball gazing, tealeaf interpreting glory. He sincerely hoped that Calla wouldn't end up like that.  
  
“I always thought that she would inherit your ability for wandless magic,” Harry told Elle. “You know, just like how you inherited it from your ancestors.”  
  
Elle chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe Calla inherited something from your ancestors instead.”  
  
Harry thought this was ridiculous. He had never heard of any of his ancestors being able to tell the future. Then again, what did he know about his family? Perhaps it was possible. Incidentally, he couldn't think of another suitable explanation for his daughter's mysterious behavior, though he wasn't sure if Elle was entirely correct. Could it be that their daughter, unlike Professor Trelawney, was, in fact, a real live Seer? He wished he knew someone with a magical newborn, to see if this was just normal behavior.   
  
"I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe there's a better explanation.” He reached out a hand and opened the door. "Come on," he said, holding the door open for her to pass through first. "We're early anyway, I doubt anybody's here yet."  
  
As they walked through the house, Harry felt the familiar sense of foreboding that he usually felt while walking along the dark hallways of his godfather's old house. But even though neither of them had been there in a while, it seemed as if it had been only days since their last visit.  
  
Calla, thankfully, was quiet as they passed through the house, and Elle quickly put up a hand to cover the child's eyes as they passed the grotesque, mounted elf heads that no one had ever managed to get down. Finally, they reached the kitchen where the meetings were usually held, and with a last shared glance, Harry and Elle both entered the room.  
  
It appeared as if only the adults were there already. Sitting on the chair closest to them were Hagrid, Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and McGonagall, but they all stood up at once as Harry and Elle came in.   
  
"There you are!" Mrs. Weasley cried, flinging her arms around Harry's neck and squeezing him tightly. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am for you. Oh, a baby, it's just wonderful..."  
  
"Molly, let them breathe," Lupin said with a laugh, as Harry pulled away from Mrs. Weasley, looking astonished.  
  
"Well forgive me, Remus, but I can't help it if I'm excited over seeing the closest thing I have to a grandchild!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. “Bill just loves to keep his mother waiting!”   
  
Harry laughed. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "Ron and Hermione should be here soon.”  
  
Mrs. Weasley beamed. "My son, engaged!" she said wistfully. "Isn't it wonderful?" She spoke as if nothing in the world could possibly have pleased her more. "And you!" she exclaimed suddenly, surveying Elle and the baby. Elle jumped and looked around.  
  
"What is it?" Elle asked hesitantly, as if expecting a lecture.  
  
Mrs. Weasley smiled happily at her. "You look simply beautiful, my dear. You're going to make a lovely mother."  
  
Elle turned red, but looked flattered. "Thank you," she said, sounding a little embarrassed. She sighed happily. "It’s wonderful to see you all again," she added, gazing around at all the adults and her former professors.   
  
She caught a glimpse of Snape sitting on the opposite end of the long table with Moody, Kingsley, and the rest, and smiled towards them too. Snape was the only one who didn't smile back; instead, he glowered as the others raised their hands to wave and call congratulations.  
  
"So this is the child, then," McGonagall said admiringly, as Elle held up the little girl so that everybody could see.  
  
"Yes," Elle said, sounding much more confident than she had earlier. "This is our daughter, Calla."  
  
As they all began to fawn over the baby, Elle and Harry obliged to let everyone who wanted to hold Calla hold her. As carefully as they could, they passed the small baby down the line of Order members that had formed, watching happily as each person held the child for only a few moments at a time, each one smiling joyfully and showering the young parents with compliments on their newborn daughter.   
  
Calla herself seemed a little unnerved by all the stares she was getting but, like Elle, she seemed well suited to receiving attention.   
  
Finally, once everyone had gotten a chance to hold the baby, a large figure rumbled up to them from the back of the line.  
  
"Hey Hagrid!" Harry and Elle both called out in unison.  
  
"Hello!" he responded cheerfully, his beetle-black eyes shining in admiration. He sighed, staring down at Calla from his enormous height. "She really is beautiful, you two," he remarked appreciatively.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said, as Calla continued to gaze up at Hagrid in wonder.  
  
Hagrid chuckled a little. "I just find it hard ter picture you two as a mum an dad," he said wistfully.  
  
Elle smiled understandably. "Yeah, it's weird huh?"  
  
"Nah, you'll do a great job," Hagrid told them respectfully.  
  
Elle gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Hagrid. How are you?" she asked, trying to sound polite, but a second later Calla had, without warning, flung her tiny arm backwards and hit Elle right in the face.  
  
"Oh, I've bin gettin' along alright," Hagrid said dismissively with a wave of his hand, ignoring the loud cry of "ouch!" coming from Elle. "But I should really be askin' the two of yeh that question," he added, narrowing his eyes in concern. "Yeh look exhausted."  
  
Harry sighed, knowing by the look of Elle's puffy-eyed, tired face that he couldn’t look much better.  
  
"Yeah well, we've had a bit of trouble with Calla waking up during the night," he explained to Hagrid.  _Understatement of the century_ , he thought.   
  
Hagrid sighed again. "I guess that's ter be expected," he said sympathetically. "Anyways, I got summat here... a small present for the baby..."  
  
His voice trailed off as he rummaged through his moleskin overcoat, turning out pockets and patting the outside, looking for the gift. Harry and Elle exchanged hesitant looks.  
  
"Uh, Hagrid, it's okay, you really don't have to give us anything," Elle said uncertainly.  
  
"Nah, 'course I do!" Hagrid exclaimed jubilantly, finally locating a small package from inside one of the inner pockets and pulling it out. Harry and Elle both stared at it.  
  
"Um...it isn't dangerous, is it?" Harry asked apprehensively.  
  
"Jus' open it!" Hagrid bellowed, looking exceptionally pleased with himself.  
  
With one last shared look, Harry took the package and ripped it open, letting the paper fall to the floor. What he now held was a small rattle with the top shaped like a dragon. Yet even though it was a miniature version, it still seemed incredibly lifelike. The tail and ears of the carved dragon moved, and every so often it opened its mouth to roar softly.   
  
Harry expected Calla to be frightened, but instead the baby squealed happily.  
  
"Innit adorable?" Hagrid asked, positively beaming. "Reminds yeh of Norbert, don't it?"  
  
"Uh...yeah," Harry said slowly, shaking the rattle in front of Calla's face, much to the baby's delight.  
  
Elle grinned, watching her daughter play with this new toy. "It's great, Hagrid," she said happily. "Thank you so much!"  
  
"Don' mention it," Hagrid said, and he moved away from them to go and take his place at the table.  
  
After a few minutes, more and more people started filing into the kitchen, and Harry and Elle hastily took their seats. Elle felt her nerves start to grow slightly as she saw Dean, Seamus, Neville, Ginny, and Lavender enter the room and immediately situate their gaze over in her direction.  
  
She gave them a slight wave, which was difficult as she was balancing Calla on one arm, but the five of them seemed to take it as a signal that they could come over to her, and began to wend their way around the table towards her and Harry.   
  
Elle's nerves worsened even more as she saw Parvati and Draco enter the room separately out of the corner of her eye, but she determinedly kept her gaze away from them and focused on greeting her friends, filling them in on all that she had been up to, as well as letting them hold the baby. In turn, they assured her they were all recovering from the Dementor attack.   
  
“Figures,” Elle heard Parvati mumble from a short distance away. “We’re the ones who nearly got our souls sucked out, and she’s sitting there behaving like a queen.”   
  
Elle swallowed, and pretended not to hear. If only Parvati knew how much worry and pain she had went through…  
  
Finally, after Elle's arms felt like they were going to fall off from holding Calla up and handing her off to each person, Ron and Hermione finally entered the room, and at a desperate glance from Elle, made a beeline straight for her.  
  
"Sorry everyone, but you're going to have to move out of the way," Ron announced loudly, as he broke through the small crowd surrounding Elle, and earning himself some glares. "I need to look after my goddaughter now."  
  
Elle shot him a thankful glance as the crowd around her began to disperse. "Thanks," she whispered gratefully, handing the baby over to him.  
  
Calla seemed to settle down just fine in Ron's arms, and as he and Hermione left to find seats at the other end of the long, wooden table, Elle looked up and saw that both Parvati and Draco were staring at her. She supposed they had come to attention once they had heard Ron's voice.  
  
Draco looked away the moment he caught Elle staring at him, but Parvati continued to sneer at Elle in a most unsatisfying way, causing Elle to look down again and feel an unfamiliar sensation of shame. She couldn't explain exactly why, but there was something about the look in Parvati's eyes that made Elle doubt herself, as if she were unworthy of being here, surrounded by all these people whose sole responsibility was to protect the wizarding world from Lord Voldemort…who were free from the mundane task of caring for an infant.  
  
Elle turned her gaze towards Ron and Hermione, making sure that Ron was absolutely fine with handling Calla for the time being.  
  
As soon as everybody had arrived and were seated, Elle leaned over and hissed to Harry, "Where's Dumbledore?"  
  
Harry cast a weary look around the room, but then shrugged. "I dunno," he answered back.  
  
Elle sighed. "I really wish everybody would stop staring," she said dismally.  
  
Harry, who was quite used to this sort of behavior by now, was saved from answering by the sudden presence of Dumbledore, who seemed to have swept into the room from out of nowhere.  
  
"Before we begin any discussion concerning Voldemort's whereabouts," Dumbledore started, as though he had read what was on everybody's minds. "I have a few announcements to make."  
  
Everybody shifted uncomfortably in his or her seats, while Harry frowned. It sounded to him as though Dumbledore thought that they were all back at Hogwarts listening to the start of term feast, and not in a dank, gloomy kitchen awaiting some sign of where Voldemort could be.   
  
Meanwhile, Elle cast another nervous glance over to where Ron and Hermione sat, with Hermione now holding her tiny, surprisingly quiet goddaughter. Elle prayed that the baby would continue to remain silent and content. She would be incredibly embarrassed if the meeting were interrupted because of Calla's screams.  
  
"The first," Dumbledore continued. "Is to congratulate Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger of their engagement. I wish many years of happiness to you both."  
  
Practically everyone in the room began to clap, and Harry and Elle beamed in their direction as Ron and Hermione both turned bright red. Harry could see Mrs. Weasley brushing away tears of joy from under her eyes.  
  
“The second may come as a shock to some of you," said Dumbledore a couple of minutes later, after all the applause had died down and the last shouts of "Congratulations!" had worn off.  
  
The room suddenly became very still and silent. Dumbledore gave them an encouraging smile, which let Harry know that this, at least, was not bad news.  
  
"After hearing a spontaneous suggestion from one of our members, it has become my decision to induct two new foreign wizards into our ranks, so that our Order may possess additional backup," Dumbledore said finally. "Or rather, forgive me, a witch and a wizard."  
  
At these words, an outbreak of whispering broke out, and everybody leaned over in their seats to discuss this new piece of information hurriedly with their neighbors.  
  
"Foreign, did he say?" Lavender asked excitedly, turning her head towards Parvati.  
  
"A witch  _and_  a wizard?" Seamus asked in confusion.  
  
"Why do we need back up?" Parvati added, scrunching up her nose.  
  
"Where do you think they came from?" Neville asked, his round face shining with unexplainable apprehension.  
  
Ron and Harry shared a look from across the table, and Ron mouthed to Harry, "What's this about?"  
  
Harry shrugged, as McGonagall shushed them harshly and motioned for them to give Dumbledore their complete attention. Elle gave Harry an anxious glance, knowing full well that  _she_  was the one who had given Dumbledore the idea, and that if people disagreed with it, she would be the one to blame.  
  
"Before we continue our gossip and inexhaustible whispering, allow me to introduce our new members, who have traveled all the way here from America to help us in our quest of defeating Voldemort," Dumbledore said, waving his arms toward the kitchen door.  
  
Everybody had glanced towards Elle once Dumbledore had mentioned America. Instead of meeting their glances, she now situated her gaze towards the doorway, where two very familiar faces had suddenly appeared...  
  
"No way!" Elle exclaimed, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to them before she knew what she was doing. "Ally? Brian? What are you guys doing here?"  
  
Ally and Brian both laughed, and Ally enveloped Elle into a hug. "What do you think we're doing here? Didn't you hear what Dumbledore just said?" Ally replied smartly.  
  
"We're here to help you out," Brian added, giving her a warm smile.  
  
Elle's insides were practically bubbling with happiness. She couldn't explain why seeing her old friends brought out this sort of emotion in her, but she did know that she had tons to tell them. After all, she hadn't spoken to them for almost a year. There was so much they still had to find out...  
  
"I have so much to tell you guys," Elle said, now throwing her arms around them both. "And you guys have so much to tell me! You look so different...what's been going on back in California?"  
  
"Um, maybe we should talk about this later," Brian said, letting go of Elle and casting a wary eye around the room.  
  
Elle swallowed and looked around. Yes, everybody was indeed shooting them piercing looks, and Dumbledore was apparently waiting for her to settle down before beginning to speak once more.  
  
"Oh, uh, right," Elle said hastily. "Uh, how about we sit down..."  
  
"Who exactly are THEY?" Draco Malfoy suddenly burst out rudely, staring pointedly at the two newcomers.  
  
"Yeah," Dean piped up, narrowing his eyes. "And how do they know you?" he asked Elle.  
  
" _They_  just happen to be friends of mine," Elle told Malfoy and Dean squarely. "And besides, Dumbledore knows them too. I introduced them at my wedding."  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand. "I'll take it from here, Mrs. Potter," he said softly. "Miss Ally Anderson and Mister Brian Samuels have agreed to come here and assist with locating Lord Voldemort. By keeping in contact with certain foreign wizards, we will be able to find out quite easily whether Lord Voldemort has fled to another country. And yes, that includes regions other than America."  
  
Elle listened to Dumbledore closely; quickly realizing what he said made perfect sense. Since Ally's parents happened to be Aurors for MACUSA and incredibly rich (causing their daughter to become slightly spoiled), they were very well known within the American wizarding community, as well as with other foreign magical communities. Elle remembered when they were younger, and Ally had always been dragged to some of her parent's parties, where she had been forced to mingle with other snobby rich kids from places like France, Egypt, and Germany. Of course, Ally would still be in contact with lots of foreign, important wizards to this day.   
  
"By allowing two new members to join our ranks, we now have instant access to Auror headquarters across the globe," Dumbledore continued. “Auror headquarters which will alert us immediately of any suspicious activity that might concern Lord Voldemort.”

“And HAS any suspicious activity been reported?” Malfoy asked abruptly.

“Yes,” Ally said, addressing Malfoy with a slight glare. “Death Eater sightings have been reported both here and in America. They seem to be working in pairs, monitoring locations where Order members have visited or places where you all have connections with. That’s why we’ve advised you all to stay inside, until we can locate Voldemort himself.”

There was a hush, and then more whispers broke out. The younger Order members looked unnerved at the idea that they were possibly being tracked.   
  
Elle swallowed nervously and looked at Ally and Brian again, but they didn't seem to be paying attention. Now that Ally had given this dire warning, they were too busy gazing around at all the people, and waving at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were now warmly smiling back.  
  
"Come on guys, let's sit down, and then after the meeting I can tell you..." Elle tried again, but her words were drowned out once more by a loud screech, followed by an even louder wail, coming from the small bundle lying in Hermione's arms.  
  
The room grew steadily thicker with silence and stares as the baby continued to cry, trying to wrench herself free of Hermione's grasp. Large, wet tears streamed down her soft face. Elle felt her own face growing pink.  
  
"Whose baby is that?" Ally asked, turning suddenly to Elle. "Ron and Hermione didn't…”  
  
"No," Elle said quickly, wanting to explain in a hurry. "No, the baby's not theirs..."  
  
"Well, then whose is it?" Brian asked curiously.  
  
"Will somebody PLEASE make it stop?" Draco moaned, putting his hands over his ears.  
  
Most of the room seemed to agree with this statement, and Parvati shot Elle a dirty look. Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall both made to get out of their seats and help Elle, but Harry beat them to it.  
  
"It's okay," Harry said to the two women, and then turned to Elle. "I'll take care of her," Harry told his wife gently, keeping a wary eye on Ally and Brian. He was quite aware that Elle hadn't told them a single thing about her getting pregnant and having a baby shortly after they were married.  
  
He went over to Hermione, who seemed quite eager to hand Calla off to him, and he took the baby from her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione whispered frantically. "She just started crying out of nowhere, and I didn't know what to do, she wouldn't stop!"  
  
"Don't worry Hermione, it's not your fault," Harry said with a sigh, trying without success to get Calla to stop crying.   
  
Meanwhile, Elle was trying nervously not to look directly at Ally and Brian's bewildered stares.  
  
"Elle...is that baby yours?" Ally asked pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
Brian suddenly started choking, but quickly stopped himself.  
  
"No," he said slowly. "Ally, come on, we've known Elle forever, we both know she's not capable of being a mother!" He laughed a little and continued to look down at Elle. "Besides, you would have told us. Am I right?"  
  
Elle crossed her arms over her own chest and blinked, slightly stung by these words. She quickly ushered them into a corner, out of earshot.   
  
“How do you know what I’m capable of Brian?” she asked, uncharacteristically serious.   
  
Brian, now speechless, blinked several times, but said nothing. Ally, now looking hesitant at this sudden animosity between her two friends, laughed to ease the tension.  
  
"Calm down, Elle. It's not like we're judging you or anything. We just want to know the truth! We're your friends, aren't we?"  
  
Elle sighed, feeling slightly ashamed at herself after hearing Ally's words. How much were they going to hate her now?   
  
"Yes," she said finally, matching her gaze with Ally's. "Harry and I have a daughter."  
  
Ally and Brian both stood for a while, motionless, gaping at her. The rest of the Order ‘s voices murmured behind her. Elle sucked in her breath and waited anxiously for their angry outbursts.  
  
"You...you never told us you were pregnant!" Ally exclaimed hotly, putting her hands on her hips. “I mean, unless you adopted…”  
  
“Nope,” Elle sighed. “I was definitely pregnant.”   
  
"I don't understand why you'd keep something like this from us," Brian said dubiously, frowning. "I thought we were your friends."  
  
"Yeah!" added Ally, sounding a bit angry. "I mean, just because we live far away doesn't mean you have to exclude us from your life entirely!"  
  
Elle could feel her cheeks growing red once more, and her eyes glowed with sudden tears. She should have known that they would act this way. They had no idea how hard things had been for her and Harry over the past few months. But of course, that was partly her fault too, seeing as she hadn't told them anything.  
  
"I'm really sorry," Elle finally managed to get out, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "I wanted to tell you guys everything, honestly! But Harry and I were supposed to keep quiet; we didn't want the news getting out. Think about it...if Voldemort ever knew, he'd go after our child as soon as he had a chance, and I..." She trailed off, blinking and swallowing hard. "I can't let that happen. There’s  _still_ a chance he could take her.”   
  
Harry went and stood next to her, still holding Calla in his arms. The baby was finally starting to calm down.  
  
"She's right," Harry said calmly to Ally and Brian, not liking the way they were glaring at Elle, but understanding their feelings all the same. He would not appreciate it at all if Ron and Hermione had moved away and then not written to him for almost a year. "Don't get angry at her. She did want to tell you, but we really couldn't tell anybody."  
  
"And besides," Elle continued. "You two never called or wrote to me either."  
  
There was another five-second pause, until Ally broke it by tossing her short blond hair over her shoulder and waving her manicured hand dismissively.

"Oh, whatever," she said frivolously. "Who cares about all this? I want to see the baby!"  
  
And with that, she left a stunned-looking Brian and walked in front of Harry, leaning over so that she could see the baby's face properly. "Oh, she's absolutely adorable," Ally breathed, ignoring Harry and Elle's looks at this sudden turn of events.  
  
"Wait a second," Elle said, as Brian came over to Ally's side to look for himself, and Ally began to fawn over the child. "You mean you guys aren't mad?"  
  
"Of course we're mad," Brian said, a slight smile coming over his face. "But we're your friends, and if you think we're going to ignore the fact that you now have a daughter simply because we're a little angry you never told us about her, then you're crazy."  
  
Elle grinned. "Well, I'm glad you guys are here now," she said sincerely. "You can even help babysit, if you want."  
  
"Gladly," Ally replied, picking the baby up out of Harry's arms and holding her gently. "When was she born, anyway? And what's her name?"  
  
"Her name is Calla," Elle answered at once, feeling a bit more cheerful. "And she's a little over a month old."  
  
"Wow, so she really is a newborn," Brian observed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and peering at the baby that Ally was now holding.  
  
"Aw, but she's beautiful, isn't she?" Ally said, smiling widely at the infant, who seemed to return her smile with a dimpled, toothless one. "Look at that dark hair, and those green eyes..."  
  
"Okay, so this is all very touching and everything," Draco burst out suddenly with his old, annoying drawl. Elle jumped; she hadn’t realized people were now waiting on them. "But aren't we supposed to be here for a meeting?  
  
Again, there was a murmur of agreement to this statement, and Dumbledore gave Elle, Ally, and Brian a sideways glance.  
  
"Perhaps it would be best to postpone all conversation until the end of the meeting?" he suggested kindly. "I know you must have a lot of catching up to do."  
  
Elle gave him a weak smile. "Got it, Professor," she said, plopping herself down on the seat next to Harry's, while Ally and Brian went to find seats next to Ron and Hermione.  
  
For the next half hour or so, Elle tried her hardest to concentrate on what Dumbledore was explaining, and how Snape had figured out that this potion Voldemort was planning on using, Validus whatever, was supposed to give the drinker full usage of another person's powers by adding a few drops of their blood.   
  
She was finding it hard to pay attention to this crucial information...not because she didn't understand, but because Calla had mysteriously begun crying again, interrupting Dumbledore every few minutes and distracting everyone from what they were supposed to be learning.  
  
Elle couldn't figure out what was wrong with the baby; her and Harry had changed Calla's diaper and she had fed her just before they left, so she should have been fine. But for some reason, no matter how many times her and Harry had tried to quietly console Calla, the baby just kept on screaming louder.  
  
"Can't you  _do_  something with that thing?" Parvati called out suddenly, aggravation written all over her face. Elle's own face flushed.  
  
"My daughter is not a THING, Parvati!" Elle shouted back heatedly, trying to make herself heard over Calla's distressed sobs. “She has as much a right to be here as you do!”   
  
"Well, you should at least be able to quiet her down!" Parvati said sulkily. "I mean, what kind of mother makes her baby cry all the time?"  
  
"Hey!" Harry called out angrily, but Elle shushed him with a wave of her hand.  
  
"Don't you start shouting too!" Elle told Harry firmly. "It will only make Calla more upset."  
  
Parvati stood up, which caused everybody in the room, even the adults, to roll their eyes. They all knew what was coming next. Only Ally and Brian looked baffled at this strange behavior and the two girls glaring at each other across the table. Meanwhile, Calla gave no signs of giving up her steady flow of tears and her overactive lungs.  
  
"You think you're such a know-it-all," Parvati hissed evilly, her eyes narrowed. "Even though you've been absent from all the meetings for the better part of a year, and even you though you couldn't make it when we all went to go attack Voldemort's hideout, you still think that you can show up here and pretend like you're in charge of everything. You even bring in your old friends, who probably think this is all some sort of party."  
  
At this, Ally and Brian rose out of their seats angrily to retort, but Elle hurriedly called out, "Don't! She's only trying to get a rise out of you. Let me handle this!"  
  
Regretfully, Ally and Brian obeyed Elle's orders and huffily sat back down, but they were facing Parvati with glares now too.  
  
"I've always said you weren't meant for this Order, Elle," Parvati continued softly, as though no interruptions had been made. "You're always screwing up. And don't think for a second that just because you got yourself pregnant that anybody's going to feel sorry for you.” She smirked. "Did you  _really_  think you'd be able to handle a baby and fight Voldemort at the same time?"  
  
Elle stood there silently for a moment, thinking over what Parvati had just said. She could vaguely hear Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Harry trying to talk to her, trying to solve the argument between her and Parvati, but she was hardly listening to them.   
  
Even though she absolutely  _hated_  Parvati, the girl had a point. She  _couldn’t_  take care of Calla and dedicate herself to the Order at the same time. It was impossible. She had been a fool for even thinking she could do it.  
  
Blinking back sudden tears, Elle straightened up and cleared her throat.  
  
"Fine," she said rebelliously, holding her head up high. "You're right, Parvati. I'm not meant for this Order. I quit!"  
  
Harry jerked his head up, momentarily distracted from trying to quiet the screaming baby. "What?" he asked his wife in disbelief.  
  
"What?" Ally and Brian echoed in unison, looking even more shocked and stunned then they had earlier.  
  
"You're quitting?" Ron asked her, blinking stupidly.  
  
Elle could feel Dumbledore's eyes burning holes into her back, but she did not turn around to look at him.  
  
"That's right," she said, turning to Harry and wrenching Calla and the diaper bag away from him. "I'm leaving.”  
  
For a second she stood there, wrestling with the child to try to get the pacifier back into her mouth. Harry stood up, prepared to reason with her.  
  
"Elle," he started. "What are you talking about? You can't just quit the Order of the Phoenix, we made a commitment! We need to learn how to protect Calla!”   
  
"No one’s gaining anything from this meeting by listening to Calla scream," she replied hotly, giving up on the pacifier and spinning on her heel, heading out of the kitchen and towards the front door with Calla and the diaper bag in hand. Harry rushed behind her and followed her out into the hallway.  
  
"Elle, you don't have to do this!" he exclaimed, frustrated. "We can take turns coming to meetings, while one of us stays home and watches Calla. You don't have to quit!"  
  
Elle sighed. "Harry, you know that's not going to work. You love coming to meetings. It'll be better if I just stay home and take care of Calla, while you prepare to fight. I’ll protect her at home; you learn how to protect her abroad."  
  
"But what about all the sword fighting and training?" Harry asked her exasperatedly. "You're just going to give all that up?"  
  
"Yeah, I am," Elle said, pulling open the door that led out onto the street. "I was never that good at it anyway. And besides, it's not like I have a choice."  
  
She paused on the threshold, casting one last look around the building, and then finally rested her eyes on Harry.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice a little softer. "But I have to do this. We knew having a baby would come to this eventually; we knew we would have to make sacrifices. Life is different now.”  
  
Harry sighed, defeated. "I should quit as well," he murmured. "I can't let you take care of Calla all by yourself."  
  
Elle gave him a sly grin, which was quite unexpected.  
  
"What, stay home, help me, and miss out on all the fun?" she asked slowly. "I think not, Harry. You belong here.”  
  
Balancing Calla on one arm, the diaper bag swinging on her elbow, she leaned over and gave Harry a soft kiss on the lips.   
  
"I'll see you at home," she whispered, before turning away once more and closing the door shut behind her.  
  
Harry stared at the door, a part of him feeling ashamed for letting Elle go, another part fuming that she had acted so rashly. They could have worked it out- it was Parvati that had made her quit, he knew it.  
  
He sighed, preparing to go back into the kitchen and explain things to Dumbledore, when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder from behind. Whirling around, he found himself face to face with his crooked-nosed, longhaired, half-moon spectacled professor. Harry sighed again.  
  
"I'm sorry, Sir," he said moodily before Dumbledore could speak. "I know we ruined the meeting.”  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “I believe rising tempers were more to blame, in this case, than an innocent newborn. I will speak with Miss Patil. Perhaps, you will reason with your wife?”   
  
Harry looked alarmed at the thought, and Dumbledore heaved a sigh.   
  
"Harry," he said gently. "Throughout our time together, I have extended my wisdom to you on many subjects." He shook his head gravely; his white hair and beard were glinting even in the dull light of the hallway. "But I am afraid I cannot help you here. You'll have to face that young lady's wrath all by yourself."  
  
Harry groaned. He often wondered sometimes, when Elle got into moods like these, if he'd rather face Voldemort.  
  
As he turned around to go back into the kitchen, however, he saw Malfoy coming towards the door looking exceptionally angry.  
  
"And where are  _you_  going?" Harry asked him nastily.  
  
"I'm leaving," Draco muttered. "There's no point staying here and listening to pointless fights, if that's all these meetings are going to be about. See you later."  
  
As Draco swept through the door and slammed it shut, Harry and Dumbledore both shared a look and sighed.  
  
With all the catfights and hot tempers, would Voldemort ever be defeated?

 

* * *

 

Harry Potter was an idiot, Draco Malfoy thought. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he strode away from Grimmauld Place, with Number Twelve sliding surreptitiously out of sight between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. They had all just learned that they were being watched, and Harry was going to let his wife and child head home alone? If it wasn’t for Ginny being constantly surrounded by her mother, father, and brothers, he wouldn’t have dreamed of letting her out of his sight.

He stopped a few blocks away from Grimmauld Place, watching Elle and the baby from a distance. He waited impatiently for her to take the Portkey back to their flat. He saw as she continued to wrestle with the newborn, and use the Portkey one-handed. What was taking her so long? She was an idiot too, Malfoy decided bitterly. How dense could she be, standing out in broad daylight with Death Eaters on the loose?

Suddenly, he heard movement behind him. He turned just in time to dodge a Stunning spell, and yanked out his wand.

“Who’s there?” he shouted, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Finally, Elle and the baby had vanished from sight. He was the one now standing alone on the street, vulnerable.

Bellatrix and Macnair emerged from the shadows, both cackling gleefully. Bellatrix flicked her wand and before Malfoy could protest, ropes shot out and bound him tightly to the spot.

“What the hell are you doing?” Malfoy asked angrily, thrashing against the ropes. “Let me go, I’m not the one your Master is after.”

Bellatrix smirked. “You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name,” she hissed, circling Draco and twirling her wand. “Do you think we’re about to believe anything you say? You’ve been Dumbledore’s puppet ever since dear Lucius’ death.”

When Malfoy didn’t answer, Bellatrix jabbed the wand into his throat. “Tell me where the girl went,” she whispered in a deadly tone. Macnair stood off to her side, beating his wand against his thigh.

Malfoy let out a string of curses. “How the hell should I know?” he asked finally, bitterly. “She’s Potter’s wife, why don’t you ask him?”

Bellatrix smirked again. “You’re Potter’s Secret Keeper, you can lead us to her,” she said simply. When Draco looked at her in surprise, Bellatrix laughed. “You really think, after weeks of tracking all members of the Order, that we wouldn’t find out?”

Malfoy frowned. “That’s mental,” he said flatly. “I’ve had no contact with Potter or his wife aside from meetings, we can’t stand each other. Why would I agree to keep them safe?”

Bellatrix shrugged. “Call it a hunch,” she said sweetly. “But we DO have a way to find out for sure.” She dug around in her pocket, and pulled out a bottle filled with clear potion. “You do recognize Vertiaserum, don’t you Draco? You used it on our fellow Death Eater, after all.” 

Malfoy struggled even more fiercely against the ropes. “I’m telling you, I don’t know where Potter and his wife live!” he shouted. “Get your damn wand away from me and go interrogate Weasley or Granger, they’re his best friends!”

Bellatrix smirked again. “Too obvious,” she said, uncapping the bottle of potion and approaching Malfoy. She grabbed his chin rather forcefully, and made to tip the potion inside his mouth. Before she did, she gave Malfoy an evil grin.

“Your information will please my Master greatly,” she said softly, as Malfoy squirmed and thrashed violently, to no avail. “Especially since Potter has a child now, I see. How _very_ interesting.”

Malfoy paled, but before he could make another move, Bellatrix had emptied the potion down his throat. Malfoy gagged, and Bellatrix released her hand from his chin.

“Now,” she said, as Malfoy suddenly went slack. “Tell me- where is the girl?”

 

* * *

 

Elle sighed tiredly and leaned back in her chair, watching Calla sleep peacefully inside her crib, her new dragon-shaped rattle cuddled in one arm and her soft, quilted baby blanket in the other.  
  
As Calla continued to sleep soundly, Elle cast a wary eye around the room. It had been over an hour, but Harry still hadn't come home from the meeting. She wondered what they were discussing, and whether Ally and Brian were enjoying themselves.  
  
At the thought of them, Elle felt a stab of guilt. Half the reason they had probably come all the way here to join the Order must have been to see her, and she had quit on their very first day. What could they be thinking of her now, after first hearing that she had a baby, and then seeing her get into a shouting match? A match, in which, she had come out looking pretty bad indeed. Elle's hands were still shaking from the humiliation.  
  
Elle sighed, stretched, and then stood up, picking up a few stray objects here and there in Calla's room and putting them back where they belonged. There was nothing else she could do now, with Calla fast asleep. So, as quietly as she could, she tiptoed out of the room and closed the door behind her, making sure that it shut all the way.  
  
As Elle made her way into the kitchen, she passed by the open bathroom door, and a quick look in the mirror made her stop.   
  
She was a wreck. The dark circles around her eyes brought her resemblance to that of a raccoon, and her straggly blond hair (which had gotten way, way too long) hung around her waist like a great, greasy sheet. Though her stomach had flattened, the size of her hips and thighs were bigger than ever.   
  
Elle turned around, slowly inspecting other views and angles. She knew that she should be proud of her body, that it was the body that carried and nourished a healthy baby for nine months, but after seeing all the slim figures at the meeting today, all she could feel was shame. She was, after all, only human.   
  
Sighing, Elle shrugged at her reflection and pulled her hair carelessly into a ponytail. Scowling at the mirror, she yanked the bathroom door shut and walked into the kitchen.  
  
As she sat down at the kitchen table alone, she tiredly pointed a finger at the cupboard, and at once, the door flew open and a glass made its way toward her, floating through the air. As it landed in front of Elle, she snapped her fingers, and the glass filled itself at once with ice-cold water.  
  
She was just about to take a sip when, without really knowing why, she peered into the glass of water and closed her eyes. A split-second later, the water was gone, and instead the glass was filled with warm, amber firewhisky.  
  
Elle raised the glass to her lips and drank, feeling the burning hot liquor running down her throat. She knew she shouldn’t be drinking, but the drink felt good. She felt older than she had ever felt in her entire life. She closed her eyes, taking another sip, trying not to wallow at how awful of a mother she was. Instead, she mildly entertained the thought of sending Parvati a big flaming pile of crap.   
  
Suddenly, a loud smash and a thumping noise echoed throughout the flat, along with the sounds of scattered whispering.   
  
Alarmed, Elle put down the glass and got up, cautiously walking out of the kitchen and narrowing her eyes at the seemingly empty house.  
  
"Hello?" she called, fingering the back pockets of her jeans with one hand, and uncertainly stroking her hair with the other. "Harry, is that you?"  
  
She paused to wait for a response, but none came. The flat was silent once more.  
  
Elle sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. Was the firewhisky getting to her already, or was this just one of the side effects of lack of sleep?  
  
Elle walked slowly to Calla's room, her bare feet padding softly on the tiled floor. After checking to make sure that the baby was still safe and sound asleep, she closed the door again and made her way back into the kitchen.   
  
She picked up her glass yet again and stood in front of the counter, preparing to take a sip. Then, unexpectedly, she heard movement behind her. A woman's voice spoke silkily into her ear, "Enjoying yourself?"  
  
Elle gasped. The glass slipped from her hand and smashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.  
  
Whipping around, Elle caught sight of a heavy-lidded woman with thick curtains of black hair hovering around her sunken face. Somebody else snuck up on her from behind and grabbed her wrists, holding them tightly behind her back. Elle let out a little scream of surprise and tried to tug her arms out of their grasp. The woman in front of her smirked.  
  
"Now Elle, you must cooperate," the woman said, drawing her wand out from underneath a thick black traveling cloak. "Fighting will get you nowhere. Come with us quietly, and I'll have no reason to kill you."  
  
Elle stared at the witch. The blood had already stopped circulating in her wrists.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, trying to keep from panicking. "And how do you know my name?"  
  
The woman smiled and stroked her wand. It was an evil, mocking smile.  
  
"My name is Bellatrix Lestrange," she said slowly, walking up to Elle. "And I know quite a lot about you, Mrs. Potter. Why don’t you come with us?”  
  
"I'm not going anywhere!" Elle shouted, trying to sound braver than she felt. "Where's Harry? What have you done to him?"  
  
Bellatrix laughed a cold, mirthless laugh. “Potter is not your concern right now,” she said, in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Now come...my Master is looking forward to seeing you."  
  
Elle's face paled. "Your Master?" she repeated. "What does he want with me?"  
  
Bellatrix laughed again, and Elle winced against the painful noise.  
  
"That's for us to know, and you to find out," she drawled childishly, pointing her wand straight at Elle's throat. "But while we're asking questions, I have one to ask you as well. Tell me, Elle..." She sneered, an odd gleam in her eye.  _"Where's your pretty little daughter?"_  
  
Voldemort knew about Calla. Her worst fear was now confirmed.  
  
A fierce, protective, primal urge that Elle had never felt before sparked suddenly inside of her, and she felt her nerves reach their breaking point. Glaring at the woman, Elle threw forth her leg and kicked the woman straight in the chest.  
  
Bellatrix fell backwards with a squeal, and Elle tried with all her might to throw her arms backwards, finally succeeding in hitting the person behind her in the face with her elbow. The stranger let go, and Elle immediately dashed towards the hallway towards Calla's room.  
  
"Macnair! Seize her!" Bellatrix screeched, pointing in Elle's direction.  
  
Elle heard heavy footsteps stumbling towards her from the kitchen. She had seconds to choose- disarm her attackers, or protect the baby?

Hurriedly, she opened Calla's door and pointed a finger at the sleeping baby.   
  
"Silencio!" she whispered, before slamming the door shut once more and muttering "Colloportus!"  
  
There was a rushing sound, and Elle knew at once that the door was sealed. As she turned around, she saw Macnair running straight towards her, and she shouted "Expelliarmus!"  
  
A green light shot from her finger and hit the man, knocking him off his feet. His wand flew out of his hand and Elle caught it, pointing at the figure now lying on the floor.  
  
"Locomotor Mortis!" she yelled, and the man's legs instantly locked together. Elle was just about to run into the kitchen, when somebody behind her shouted, "Incarcerous!"  
  
Instantly, ropes appeared from out of nowhere and shot towards Elle. They wrapped around her hands and legs, and Elle, struggling to break free, fell to the floor.  
  
"Damn," she cursed softly, wriggling around and trying to take the ropes off with her teeth. She narrowed her eyes up at Bellatrix, who was standing triumphantly over her.  
  
"Let me go!" Elle demanded, but Bellatrix only continued to smirk.  
  
"I told you fighting would get you nowhere," she said darkly. "You stupid girl...did you really think you would be able to take on the Dark Lord's most faithful Death Eater all by yourself?"  
  
Elle said nothing. She continued to fight against the ropes holding her imprisoned. All she could do was pray that Harry would hurry up and get home, and help her out of this mess. But then again, Elle realized bitterly, praying for Harry to get somewhere in time hadn't worked out so well in the past.  
  
Still watching her closely, Bellatrix bent down and stared piercingly at Elle.  
  
"You never answered my question," Bellatrix said softly.  
  
Panic consumed her, but Elle tried to remain calm. Her mind was racing...how had Voldemort found out about Calla? Were they spying on her?  
  
"My daughter isn't here," she gasped. "She's...she's out with Harry..."  
  
Bellatrix's eyes were dancing with amusement. "Oh really?" she said mockingly.  
  
Elle swallowed, her eyes glowing menacingly. "You stay away from her!" she cried, her voice filled with desperation. "I swear to God, if you hurt her...”  
  
Bellatrix held out her wand, making sure the ropes stayed tied to Elle. "No matter," she said dismissively. "My orders were only to capture  _you_. The Dark Lord has no need for a whimpering baby just yet. But I'm sure your daughter and husband will have their turn, don't you worry.”  
  
Elle narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Well, you can forget your stupid orders!" Elle screamed, now kicking her feet tirelessly to try and rid herself of the ropes. "Because I'm not going anywhere! You can tell your Master that he might as well just kill me now!"  
  
Bellatrix stood up, and pointed her wand at Macnair, whose curse was automatically lifted. Then, she looked down at Elle once more.  
  
"Perhaps we can arrange that."  
  
With that, she pointed her wand at Elle, and a second later everything went black.  
  



	46. Validus Cruor

By the time Elle came to her senses, she found herself still in the clutches of Bellatrix Lestrange, and her Death Eater accomplice, Macnair. Only now, they were roaming through a darkly lit corridor lined with green-flamed torches.  
  
Elle had no idea where they were, and she felt strangely groggy, as if she had just woken up from a drug-induced sleep. Looking down, she was enraged to find that she was still bound by ropes, and she immediately struggled to get loose.  
  
Bellatrix looked down at her, and when she saw that Elle had awoken, an evil smirk crossed her lips.  
  
"Well, well, well," she cackled, lowering her wand. Elle tumbled to the floor in a heap, and she soon realized that Bellatrix must have been levitating her. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" the woman added maliciously.  
  
Elle ignored her, but Bellatrix then proceeded to yank her roughly by the arm into a standing position.  
  
"Ouch!" Elle protested angrily, wrenching herself out of Bellatrix's grip and swaying dangerously.  
  
Bellatrix glared at her, and with a flick of her wand, the ropes surrounding Elle suddenly vanished. Bellatrix quickly grabbed her again and aimed the wand at her so close, that it was practically poking into Elle's eye.  
  
Elle swallowed, her eyes watering slightly from the dim light in the corridor, not foolish enough to try anything rash while Bellatrix's wand was pointed right at her.

“Any sign of wandless magic, and I’ll blast your brains apart,” Bellatrix hissed.   
  
"Where are we?" she asked. "Where's Harry? Where's Calla? What did you do to them?" She could feel herself becoming hysterical.  
  
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "You'll see them soon enough, I'm sure," she muttered in a bored voice. She took Elle by the arm and steered her along the darkened hallway, with Macnair walking behind them like a surly bodyguard, his wand pointed at Elle's back.  
  
"This way."  
  
Elle remained silent as Bellatrix led her through the hallway, until they entered another room through a concealed door, a room that was covered with stone walls and more torches, this time with blue flames instead of green.  
  
Elle shivered as they kept walking. The place had a cold, evil feel. She had never seen anything like it. She was so disoriented and confused that she couldn't even manage to speak, even though she felt like raging and storming at Bellatrix, demanding to know where her husband and daughter were. If they were hurt in any way, Elle had to know...there had to be something she could do...  
  
As they sloped downwards, they entered another room, a room that contained numerous cells laden with heavy metal locks and chains, each of which clicked menacingly as they walked past. It was as if they were in a dungeon.   
  
Finally, they reached the cell at the very end, and as Macnair waved his wand, the door creaked slowly open. With a shriek, Bellatrix threw Elle into the gloomy, shadowy cell with surprising force, slamming her roughly against the wall.  
  
Elle let out a cry of pain as her body collided with the hard surface, but hardly had time to complain. Bellatrix had already risen her wand again, and the thick metal chains that had been resting innocently against the wall suddenly sprang to life, snaking around Elle's wrists and chaining her against the wall, raising her arms above her head.   
  
Elle shook her arms vigorously, but no matter how hard she pulled or tugged, the chains would not release her.  
  
Bellatrix turned and made to walk away, but then suddenly stopped.  
  
"Oh yes, I almost forgot," she said with a twisted smile, reaching inside her robes.  
  
Elle, who had been expecting Bellatrix to retrieve another wand, held back a gasp when she revealed a small, sharp, glinting dagger in her hand.  
  
As Bellatrix came slowly towards her with the dagger held out, only one thought floated through Elle's brain.  _She's going to stab me to death!_  
  
Shrinking away from the woman as much as she could, Elle closed her eyes and held them firmly shut, bracing herself for the pain. However, it never came, and Elle curiously opened her eyes to see what Bellatrix was doing.  
  
Bellatrix took Elle's hand, which was still fastened tightly to the wall, and slowly pressed the dagger to her palm. Meanwhile, Macnair came forward with an empty vial and an anxious, almost eager look in his eyes. Elle wondered why Bellatrix had to use her palm...there were so many nerve endings in there! Couldn't she use her leg, or something like that?  
  
As Elle watched in horror, small, steady drops of blood began to drip slowly from the palm of Elle's hand, and Macnair held up the glass vial to quickly enclose some of the escaping drops. Elle winced, not being able to look away as the glass vial filled to the brim with her blood.   
  
Bellatrix then withdrew the dagger from Elle's hand and pocketed it back inside her robes. Macnair pushed a stopper onto the vial, and the two of them slowly stepped out of the dungeon cell.  
  
"Hey, wait!" Elle called after them, as Bellatrix slammed the cell door shut. Elle could hear many locks and bolts clicking magically into place. "What have you done with Harry and Calla?"  
  
But she might as well have been shouting to the wall. Bellatrix and Macnair were already walking away.  
  
Once the two Death Eaters rounded the corner and were out of sight, Elle slumped against the wall in defeat, observing her surroundings more carefully. As far as she could tell, this place was millions of miles away from any type of normal civilization.   
  
As she stared hard at the dirty cell door (which, at a closer look, appeared to be covered in dried blood), she tried to point her finger, but it was no use. Her hands were chained too tightly to the wall.   
  
A strange voice suddenly spoke out of nowhere. It was a voice dripping with sarcasm, and sounded so very familiar...  
  
"Makes you wonder why they don't just murder you and get it over with.”  
  
The moody grumbling came from the other end of the filthy cell. Elle turned towards the voice so fast that she twisted her neck painfully.  
  
"Draco!" she gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. "How did you get here?"  
  
Draco shrugged, and Elle could see by the dim light that his own arms and wrists were chained to the wall as well. Judging by the many cuts and marks on his face, it also looked as if he had been badly beaten. Elle figured he must have tried to put up a fight.   
  
"Oh, well, you know," he continued in a bored voice. "Just figured I'd pay a visit to Voldemort and Aunt Bellatrix. We're old pals, after all." He sighed, depressed. "Doesn't look like he entertains very much though, does he?"  
  
“That woman is your  _aunt_?”  
  
“Yeah. Can’t you see the family resemblance?”  
  
Elle swallowed, her heart beating very fast. And she thought  _her_  aunt had been bad.  
  
"They captured you too," she said slowly, her voice shaking. “And you…you told them how to find me?”  
  
Draco sighed. “I was an idiot,” he said softly, looking disgusted with himself. “I left the meeting right after you did. I thought it was stupid to stay, with the catfights and the crying babies and all that. Anyway, those two must have been staking out Grimmauld Place. They saw me leave, guessed that I was your Secret Keeper, and attacked me.” He gulped. “They forced me to drink Veritaserum, and…oh bloody hell, I told them everything, Elle. I told them your location, and about your daughter. Then they dragged me here and locked me up.”

He sighed again and looked Elle in the eyes. “I’m sorry, I really am,” he said soberly. “I know you guys trusted me.”   
  
Elle took a deep breath. "So that's how they know about Calla..." she said in realization. “They had to wait until I was alone to capture me...and they must have a reason for not wanting Harry around. He was right, I shouldn’t have acted rashly and left the meeting alone, I put all of us in danger." She frowned, and narrowed her eyes at Draco. 

“It’s my fault,” she said directly to Malfoy. “I ignored Ally’s warning about Death Eaters watching us. I should have been more responsible. I still trust you, Draco.”

Draco blinked, surprised at her serious tone. They both were silent for a few moments. Elle’s hands were tingling.   
  
"Do you know where we are?" she asked him curiously.  
  
Draco took a deep breath. "Yeah," he muttered. "We're in Voldemort's mansion."  
  
Elle stared. "You mean  _this_  is his hideout?”  
  
"This is it," Draco nodded. “Lovely, isn’t it?”  
  
Elle frowned and narrowed her eyes. "But I don't understand," she said. "I thought Voldemort and his army fled. Does this mean he came back?"  
  
"Looks like it," Draco replied. "But it makes sense why they ran away now."  
  
Elle raised an eyebrow. "Does it?"  
  
"Yeah," he said. "I mean, they obviously needed to capture you. But now that they have you, or both of us rather, holed up in this dungeon like a pair of worthless blood traitors, they can come back and finally put their plan into action."  
  
"What plan?" Elle asked. "What could they possibly be planning that has to do with me?"  
  
"No idea," Draco said, shrugging. "But apparently, they needed your blood, so it must be something big."  
  
Draco looked away. "Maybe we should have actually paid attention during all those Order meetings," he said miserably, as if he couldn't believe he was actually admitting it.   
  
Elle took a deep breath. She was trapped in a creepy dungeon with her arms chained to the wall, and was possibly a key ingredient in some insane, deadly, diabolical plan.  
  
She shut her eyes tight. She hated not knowing where Calla was, not being near her. This was the first time she had been away from Calla for longer than a few minutes, and Elle didn’t like this feeling one bit. She didn’t know if Calla was scared, or cold, or hungry, or sick…  
  
Elle wondered if Harry knew she missing. Would he panic and set out to find her at once, or would he think she had just gotten mad and left on purpose? She wondered if Ally and Brian would go back to California. She hoped beyond hope that they would, so at least they could be safe.   
  
She wondered if the Death Eaters had kidnapped anyone else, and if so, had anybody been hurt? What about Ron and Hermione? Nothing horrible should be happening to them now, not when they had just gotten engaged...  
  
Elle looked up with a start as she felt something wet splash onto her leg. At first she thought her hand was bleeding again, but she realized that she had been so caught up in thinking that thick tears were running down her face, and she hadn't even noticed. Taking a shaky breath, she turned her head to wipe her eyes on her arm, and then her gaze fell onto Draco again, who was staring at her as if he didn't know quite what to say or do.  
  
"Oh good lord, please don’t start that," he said sourly.  
  
Elle glared at him. "Well, what do you know Draco," she remarked. "Your amazing sensitivity strikes again."  
  
She kicked her leg angrily at the floor. "DO YOU SEE WHERE WE ARE?" she shouted at him, her face turning red. "WE'RE LOCKED TOGETHER IN THIS STUPID CELL, WE COULD DIE HERE TONIGHT, AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS INSULT ME!"  
  
She slumped against the wall again, her face defeated.  
  
"I'm just scared, alright?" she admitted, in a quieter voice. "I don't know what's going to happen.”  
  
She blinked, and her eyes watered once more.  
  
"I just...I need my daughter," she whispered, her expression growing more panicked by the second. "She's the only thing that matters right now, and I need to be near her and protect her. I mean, mothers are supposed to keep their children from harm, right? And what's the first thing I do after she's born? I put her in danger and get myself captured by Death Eaters!" She closed her eyes, no longer speaking to Draco, but to herself.   
  
"I'm a failure," she muttered. "A complete and utter failure."  
  
Draco stared at her, motionless, but Elle didn't care. She wasn't even aware of him anymore. For it had finally hit her that Calla would be in danger no matter what happened to her and Harry. Calla didn't deserve a young, irresponsible, stupid mother like her. Calla had barely even begun to live, but Elle had already let her down.  
  
"Oh give me a break, you're not a failure," Draco said spitefully, and Elle looked up at him in surprise. "How could you be? You're a Potter now. And from my personal, unpleasant experience, I've found that Potters can't stand to fail at anything. You guys would go crazy if you didn't have something to brag about.”  
  
Even though he spoke these words with pure unkindness and disgust, Elle found what he said to be oddly comforting. She locked eyes with Draco, and the hatred in his own eyes seemed to soften.  
  
"Look," he said, as if he were struggling to maintain his cool and composed manner. "I don't know where your daughter is, alright? But I'll bet you anything that she's safe. I would've seen if they brought her or Potter in, so I doubt that they’re hurt. But we're never going to make it out of here alive if you keep sitting here crying.”  
  
Elle rolled her eyes, but she straightened up and stared gloomily at her chained wrists. Draco was right- she had to toughen up if she was ever going to fight Voldemort and see Harry and Calla alive again.  
  
She sighed. "I hate to admit it Draco, but you're right," she said. "We have to do something, and fast."  
  
Draco smirked. "Doesn't hurt to listen to me occasionally, does it?" he said smugly. He cleared his throat. "Oh, and uh, while we're still on speaking terms, I have a confession to make," he added, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I just thought you should know that, for the record, I  _was_  at your wedding."  
  
Elle blinked, completely shocked. "What?" she asked. "You were?"  
  
Draco nodded gravely. "I refused to attend at first," he admitted. "But Dumbledore came to me the day before and asked for me to attend your wedding and act as a look out, just in case Voldemort or any Death Eaters decided to show up and ruin the big day. I stood near the back, ready to report any signs of suspicious activity. Luckily for you, Damian didn’t stick around long, so I slipped out early. Though not early enough."  
  
He winced, as though thinking back to that happy memory caused him pain.  
  
Elle nodded slowly, understanding. "So, you came to my wedding on Order business, not because you wanted to be there."  
  
"That's right," he said. "No offense, but seeing as how I can't stand your husband..."  
  
Elle shrugged. “It’s okay," she said. "I appreciate you looking out for us."  
  
She squinted at him, trying to make out his expression in the rapidly darkening dungeon. "But why tell me now?" she inquired.  
  
Draco frowned. "I don't know," he said. "Just in case we don't live beyond today, I guess. I just thought you should know, I’m not all bad. And I heard that Ginny would be wearing a particularly elegant bridesmaid dress." He looked down and swallowed. “And in case we do live beyond tonight, I’m going to tell Ginny that she looked beautiful in it.”   
  
Elle grimaced. "We're going to make it out of here alive," she said, with renewed fiery determination. "I'm not going to let Voldemort kill me and leave Calla without a mother.”  
  
She shook the chains surrounding her wrists in aggravation. "I just wish we knew how to get out of this stupid dungeon," she muttered. Her hands glowed briefly as she screwed up her eyes, but then hung limp again.   
  
"Well," Draco replied, staring up at his own chains and narrowing his eyes. "I reckon we'll be able to manage a way out somehow."  
  
Elle raised her eyebrows. "Can you come up with a plan?” she asked doubtfully.  
  
Draco smirked again. "Well..." he said, with a sly drawl. "I am a Slytherin, aren't I?"

* * *

"So, that was all rather interesting, don't you think?"  
  
Harry sighed, leading the way up to his doorstep with Ron and Hermione following behind him. He was much too preoccupied, and didn't feel like discussing the meeting- all he wanted was to just go home and try to sort out the disagreement with Elle. He knew that she would be in a bad mood, so deciding on what to say to her was very important...far more important than answering Hermione's question.  
  
He gave her a noncommittal shrug and left Ron to the task of nodding and murmuring "uh-uh" to Hermione's endless analyzations. He even wished that Brian and Ally had agreed to come home with him too, so that they might distract Elle from her current foul disposition, but they had decided to stay at a hotel in London for the time being.  
  
As they turned onto Harry and Elle’s front steps, Hermione finally stopped jabbering, and Harry listened closely to see if he could hear any shrieks or cries that might be coming from Calla. But there were none, and Harry turned to his friends.  
  
"Calla must be asleep," he said with relief, taking out his wand. "I think it's safe to enter…”  
  
But as he touched the doorknob, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Ron and Hermione stopped and looked up, confused. Then Hermione screamed.  
  
There it was, illuminated brightly against the late afternoon sky like a nightmare come to life - the Dark Mark. The Dark Mark was over Harry’s house. It must have been triggered by his touch.   
  
“No,” Ron whispered, his face white. He looked at Harry, aghast. “What…how…the magical barriers, how did they get past them?”  
  
“Calla,” Harry muttered at once, barely listening to Ron. Without another thought he blasted the door open with his wand. He ran inside, Ron and Hermione at his heels.  
  
“Elle!” he shouted sharply, running into the living room, their bedroom, and then the kitchen. “Elle, are you here? ANSWER ME! ELLE!”   
  
Ron and Hermione followed him, and all three stood in the kitchen. All that could be heard was deafening silence, a silence so thick that it seemed to be closing in on them from all directions.   
  
Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and then looked at Harry.  
  
"She’s gone," Ron said weakly.  
  
Harry stood there thinking, panicking.  _Where could they have taken her? Was she hurt? WHY did he let her go off by herself?_  
  
As he looked around the kitchen, an odd shimmering sight on the floor caught his attention.  
  
"Hey, what's this?" he asked, shifting the glinting shards aside with his foot.  
  
Hermione bent down. "It's glass," she said, taking out her wand and pointing it at the floor. "Reparo!"  
  
The pieces of glass that had been sprayed over the floor like ice instantly mended back into place. Hermione picked up the glass and sniffed it.  
  
"Firewhisky," she said, setting the glass back on top of the counter. A dark look crossed over Hermione's face and her expression grew more serious.  
  
"Look," she said, stepping over Harry and Ron's feet and making her way out of the kitchen, towards the far living room wall on the opposite side of the house.  
  
One of the windows that had decorated the whole back wall of the flat was broken; it's panes hung over the floor, and its dingy shades were slashed, as if they had been punctured by a knife. Apparently, the window had been forced open.  
  
Harry's heart began to pound against his chest. His brain was working frantically. The Dark Mark was over his house, and his wife and daughter were missing. His very worst fears were coming true.  
  
Harry rushed from the room and out into the hallway, before skidding to a stop right outside Calla's bedroom door. He turned the knob, but nothing happened- the door appeared to be sealed shut.  
  
Ron and Hermione slid to a halt behind him. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry took out his wand and shouted "Reducto!"  
  
The door swung open, and Harry climbed his way into the room, his heart beating wildly, fearing the worst. Ron and Hermione followed him, both wearing identical expressions of dread.   
  
Harry knew what they were thinking, but he refused to believe it...he didn't know what he would do if the thing he feared most in the entire world came true...  
  
"Calla!" he shouted in relief, as he bent down to look into the crib and saw the baby peering up at him through the blankets. Tears were streaming from her eyes, but she remained completely silent.  
  
Harry snatched her up and held her, while Hermione slumped against the wall with her hand held over her heart.  
  
"Thank goodness," she whispered, her eyes closed. "I thought for sure that she must be..."  
  
"I know," said Harry quietly with his eyes closed, too overcome with relief to think straight.   
  
He continued to hold the baby, feeling her shaking and trembling, and began to wonder why she wasn't making any noise.  
  
"What's the matter with her?" Ron asked, staring at the baby in Harry's arms. "Why is she so quiet?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry murmured, holding Calla away from him slightly so that he could get a good look at her.  
  
Hermione pointed her wand at Calla. Before Harry could ask just what exactly she was going to do, she yelled "Finite!"  
  
The baby automatically began to cry, wailing at the top of her lungs.  
  
"The poor thing," Hermione murmured, going over to the baby and rubbing her back to try to get her to calm down. "She must be frightened to death."  
  
"I don't blame her," Ron said, shuddering. "It's a good thing she was locked in here, or else who knows what would have happened?"  
  
Harry sighed. "It was Elle," he said, trying to make himself heard over Calla's persistent screams. "She must've put the silencing charm on Calla and then sealed her bedroom door so that she couldn't be found."  
  
He shook his head, his former relief over finding Calla safe and sound evaporating rapidly, as his worry over Elle grew.  
  
"They must've captured her and taken her somewhere," he said slowly, panic flowing through him. "Voldemort, or Death Eaters, or whoever the hell was in my house."  
  
"Harry," Hermione said hesitantly. "We don't know for certain..."  
  
"Come on Hermione, the DARK MARK IS OVER MY HOUSE!" Harry yelled, not stopping to think that his yelling might cause Calla to cry harder. "My wife is missing! It's obvious they've taken her somewhere, and we have to find her before it's too late!"  
  
"But Harry, isn't it also obvious why they've taken her?” Hermione said loudly. "Voldemort is trying to lure you back into his clutches! He must be ready for us now, and he knows that you'd follow Elle anywhere to try to get her back, that's why he took her! Harry, you're only going to fall right into his trap!”  
  
"I don't care," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "I don't give a damn what Voldemort wants. If he wants me to come to him, then fine...he shouldn't have run away. But if you think that I'm not going to try and get Elle back, then you're crazy."  
  
"Of course I don't think that Harry, I don't want anything to happen to Elle either!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands. "But what I'm saying is, maybe we should think up a plan first instead of just barging right into Voldemort’s mansion!"  
  
"I'm sick of thinking up plans!" Harry shouted, frustrated. "I'm going after Elle, and the two of you can either come with me or not."  
  
He sighed.  
  
"I’m sorry,” he said, feeling guilty at the distressed looks on Ron and Hermione’s faces. They cared about Elle just as much he did. “I’m taking my anger out on you, I know that’s not right. But you don't realize what will happen if I don't go and rescue her,” he explained more calmly. “I never told you two this, but a couple of months ago I had a nightmare that Voldemort murdered Elle in his mansion. I saw her dead with my own two eyes...she was just lying on the ground at Voldemort's feet."  
  
Ron was looking very pale. "But mate, it was just a dream," he said in a low voice.  
  
Harry faced him with set, determined eyes.  
  
"We all know that my dreams aren't always what they seem," he said darkly. "And I'm not willing to take a chance on this one. Voldemort has Elle, and if I don't do something about it soon, she'll be killed."  
  
Hermione suddenly slapped her hand to her forehead as if she had just experienced a great revelation.  
  
"Of course..." she said softly. "This all makes sense." She looked towards the two boys. "This all has to do with the potion Voldemort has been developing," she said. "Validus Cruor. He knows by now about Elle's powers.”  
  
"Yeah," Harry said impatiently, bouncing Calla lightly up and down. He wished Elle were here to help him; she was the best at soothing Calla when the baby was most upset. "So?"  
  
"So, remember how Snape was explaining to us today that he found out the potion was used to obtain somebody else's powers? After that person's blood had been added in? Well, he must want to use Elle's powers for himself! That's why Voldemort's been waiting so long to fight us. He needed to wait for the potion to be ready, so that he could capture Elle and use her blood. When we went to attack him at his mansion, he had to flee because the potion wasn't complete! But now it is, since he has the final ingredient."  
  
Ron was staring at Hermione, looking amazed. "I can't believe you actually remembered everything Snape told us," he said to her, half admiringly, half incredulously.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's a good thing," Harry muttered. "So you're telling me the whole reason he's been taking his sweet time is because he was waiting for a potion to be finished?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione nodded, looking breathless.  
  
Harry swallowed. "He's probably already taken Elle's blood," he said, trying not to think how horribly injured she might be. "Elle's never really put her powers to good use before.”  
  
"I can bet you anything that Voldemort will put them to good use,” Ron said darkly. “He's got to, or else he wouldn't have wasted so much time on that potion."  
  
Still clinging tightly to Calla, Harry strode from the room and back out into the kitchen.  
  
"Where are you going?" Hermione called, her voice apprehensive.  
  
"I'm getting the Portkey," Harry answered back, rummaging around for the small, rusty key amid the piles of rubbish on the counter. "I'm going to Hogwarts. The swords are being kept there; I can go and get mine and then once I'm in Hogsmeade, Apparate to the beach across from Voldemort's mansion.”  
  
"We're going with you," Ron said at once, coming into the kitchen with Hermione and taking the Portkey from Harry.  
  
"Besides," Hermione added, reaching out a finger to touch it, "Dumbledore should know about this right away."  
  
Harry wanted to protest, saying that they didn't have time to talk to Dumbledore, that Elle could be dead by then, but at that moment he felt the familiar pull from behind his naval and, clutching even more tightly to Calla with his other arm, felt the room around them disappear.

* * *

"Master, we have acquired the final ingredient, just as you requested."  
  
"Indeed?" Voldemort asked calmly, his eyes gleaming. "Yes...excellent," he murmured, taking hold of the vial Macnair presented. "And the girl?"  
  
"She is trapped inside the dungeon with Draco," Bellatrix answered smugly. “Foul little blood traitor.”  
  
Voldemort nodded in approval. "You have done well, Bella," he said. "It certainly appears that I would have been better off using you instead of...shall we say...others who are less than worthy."  
  
His eyes flickered quickly toward Damien, who stood off to the side.  
  
"However, it is time we proceed. Dolohov, bring me the potion."  
  
Dolohov came forth, carrying carefully in his arms a smaller, sturdier cauldron filled with a bubbling, emerald potion. Dolohov set the cauldron before him, and lifted the blood-filled vial, tipping it in midair. Voldemort and his Death Eaters watched as the blood poured into the potion, turning its bright green contents a darker, gleaming shade of shimmering gold. It almost looked as though somebody had stolen a ray of blinding sunshine, and plunged it headfirst into the cauldron's contents.  
  
"Each person's blood produces a different transformation," Voldemort explained. "The color is unique to the owner of the powers."  
  
The transformation was certainly breathtaking. The golden light surrounding the cauldron became more illuminated, and soon enough, the vial was empty. Dolohov tossed the empty glass aside and it shattered at Damien's feet.  
  
As they all continued to gaze into the cauldron, they could see that the potion was no longer bubbling or simmering- instead, the liquid inside remained quite still, as though imitating the glassy surface of a lake.  
  
"It worked!" Bellatrix squealed, a vicious gleam in her dark, shadowy eyes.  
  
"Right, Bella," Voldemort said softly. He moved closer to the potion and bent down, almost as if he were inhaling the fumes.  
  
"Now, we drink."

* * *

 

Harry strode around the Room of Requirement, clutching his sword and his wand tightly in each hand, watching as Hermione held Calla.   
  
Hermione had insisted on talking to Dumbledore first. Dumbledore immediately called together all the Order members, Aurors, and house elves. Ally had spoken with the Aurors stationed in Egypt, and they confirmed Voldemort’s return.

They were set to leave for Voldemort's mansion any moment, but people were having a hard time grasping what was going on. Most were confused as to why they had to meet up again when they had just ended their last meeting a few hours ago.  
  
Finally, Harry, very frustrated, walked right up to where Dumbledore was standing and faced the whole room.  
  
"Okay everybody, LISTEN!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.  
  
All the D.A. members seemed to quiet down at once, as if by instinct, and even the Ministry Aurors who were rolling up their sleeves, deep in discussion with Kingsley and Tonks, silenced themselves in order to hear what Harry had to say.  
  
"I'm going to make this as simple as possible," he continued, lowering his hands but maintaining the volume of his voice. Calla stared up at him from Hermione's arms, as if mesmerized. After all, she had come to know him as the man who stayed up with her at night, and who made funny faces at her just to try to get her to laugh. Not as someone who spoke loudly and sternly. Nevertheless, he plundered on.   
  
"Voldemort has taken Elle," he said. "And if we don't go after her right away, then she's going to die."  
  
As expected, the room erupted in murmurs. Parvati stared him down, raising her eyebrows.  
  
“Really?” she asked dubiously. “Are you sure she didn’t just run off to be dramatic?”   
  
Harry sighed. "Look, I know  _some_  of you don't like Elle that much,” (he glared at Parvati as he said this), "and I don't blame you, because she's a huge pain in the ass."  
  
Some people giggled at this, but most of them remained quiet.  
  
"But this is serious. If you’ve ever loved someone, you know how it feels when they’re in danger.” He saw Ron and Hermione gaze at each other, and noticed Ginny grow suddenly anxious. “I love her more than anything in the entire world, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get her back," Harry continued, turning towards Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore looked back at Harry, his old face resolute.  
  
"Well then, Harry," he said softly. "What are we waiting for?"  
  
Harry grinned, thankful that Dumbledore did not require some big explanation. Others, however, still seemed confused.   
  
"Elle's been captured?" Ally asked in alarm, pushing her way through the crowd and putting her hands on her hips.  
  
"Yes," Harry said simply, a little more sympathetically. Not only was Ally in a strange country, and not only had she just found out that her best friend was a parent…now she unknowingly was about to head into battle. "She has."  
  
"Well, then I'm with him," Brian said loudly, standing next to Ally, putting his arm around her, and jerking his head towards Dumbledore. "Let's stop waiting around here, and go after her already!"  
  
"Yes, thank you!" Harry exclaimed, feeling a rush of gratitude for Elle's friend. "Let's go!"  
  
"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried, dashing forward.  
  
"What?"  
  
Hermione glared at him, looking seriously annoyed. "Um, hello, your daughter?" she gestured, holding Calla up. "What are you going to do about her?”  
  
Harry gazed at Hermione. He had forgotten all about what he was going to do with Calla. They had nobody to stay here and watch her.  
  
He looked around the room, but nobody was paying attention to him anymore. They were all gathering their swords and wands, getting ready to depart. Only Ginny seemed uninterested in getting ready- she seemed to be looking around nervously for something or someone, and the look on her face was frantic.   
  
A tense atmosphere settled amongst them, as if they all knew, somehow, that this was going to be different from the last time. This time, they would not be facing an empty mansion full of dementors.  
  
"Here, dear," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly and unexpectedly, coming up behind him and giving him a smile that didn't fully cover up her nerves. "I can take the baby and look after her for now, if you'd like. Dumbledore's ordered me to stay behind and watch over things here. He's got Professors Flitwick and Sprout running the school, and I'll be taking charge over Order headquarters. If anything goes wrong he'll have me to send word."  
  
Harry smiled at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "I hate to leave Calla like this, but there's nothing else I can do."  
  
"I understand completely," Mrs. Weasley said. "You need to go and get your wife back. Elle will be fine Harry, I know she will."  
  
Harry sighed. He hoped beyond hope that Mrs. Weasley was right. As gently as he could, he took Calla from Hermione and held her close.  
  
"Don't worry," he whispered to the baby. "We won't be gone for long. I'm going to go and get your mum back. We'll be home before you know it."  
  
Calla blinked, and stared up at him with wide, watery green eyes. Harry tried hard not to look away, but those eyes reminded him too much of Elle. Leaning over quickly, he kissed her forehead, and with a small sense of regret, handed her over to Mrs. Weasley. He had never left Calla in the company of someone else before, except for her first night in the St. Mungo’s nursery.   
  
"Everything she needs is at our flat," Harry explained to Ron's mother, handing her the Portkey and telling her the address. "Formula, blankets, medicine-"  
  
"I'll take good care of her, Harry," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "I've had a lot of experience taking care of children."  
  
Harry sighed, and nodded. "Thanks," he murmured gratefully.  
  
Mrs. Weasley gave him a last comforting smile and left, heading towards her own children and husband to bid them farewell.  
  
Harry heaved a great sigh and wrenched his gaze away from Calla, knowing that the baby would begin to cry as soon as she realized that Harry wasn't coming to get her.   
  
He looked up to see Dumbledore coming towards him, with Seamus, Dean, and Neville behind him. They were all giving him comforting grins, and Harry felt some of his strength return.  
  
Ron finished saying goodbye to his mother, and came to stand next to Hermione, grabbing her hand tightly. Ally and Brian followed, both glancing down at the swords Dumbledore had lent them, as if they weren't quite sure exactly what to do with them.   
  
Harry gave them a "don't worry about it" sort of look, and headed for the door.  
  
"Let's go," he said, opening the door and striding out into the castle, Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix following right behind him.  
  



	47. A Long-Awaited Death

"Draco!" Elle said in exasperation, stopping to take a breath. "No offense, but I don't think your plan is working."  
  
Draco stopped what he was doing, and frowned.   
  
"Well," he muttered, frustrated. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."  
  
Elle sighed. Draco had told her that Voldemort's mansion was on an island. He figured that if they were to stamp their feet hard enough on the dungeon's stone floor, eventually it would cave in, and they'd be able to reach the ocean water beneath.   
  
Elle thought it was a very wooly plan, especially if you considered the fact that they were still chained by their wrists to the wall and quite unable to move an inch, let alone swim. However, there was nothing else to do, and she figured it couldn't hurt to humor Draco and give it a try. But they had been stamping their feet mercilessly for the past twenty minutes, and all they had succeeded in doing was making a lot of noise.  
  
Draco looked at her accusingly. "I really thought the extra weight you put on recently would help."  
  
Elle glared at him. "I just had a baby, you idiot," she growled. “And I don’t think this mansion has a gym.”   
  
Draco blinked. "Oh yeah. I keep forgetting."  
  
Elle hung her head, trying to think about what to do next. Her arms were starting to feel numb. "I wonder why nobody's come to kill us?" she thought out loud.  
  
"I know," Draco replied. "I mean, they went through all this trouble in capturing us, and then they just leave us here to rot. You'd think they'd at least be in the mood for some threatening or something.”  
  
"Yeah," Elle agreed, squinting through the darkness of the dungeon. "It's definitely weird."  
  
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but then something happened to Elle and she missed his words.   
  
It felt as if an electric shock had just gone through her body- her skin was all tingly, and goosebumps were breaking out all over her arms and legs. Then, before she could figure out exactly what was happening, an extreme wave of exhaustion swept over her, an exhaustion so deep that, despite being locked up in a dungeon with no clue where her husband or daughter was, she could barely keep her eyes open.   
  
She slumped back against the wall, her arms clanging noisily against the chains, her head feeling as if it were ten times heavier than normal.  
  
Draco stopped talking and gave her an odd look. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Look, I'm sorry about the weight comment, alright?"  
  
Elle closed her eyes, her mind momentarily numb. "No, it's not that..." she said softly, trying to keep her words from slurring. "I'm just really tired…for some reason..."  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "So you're going to take a nap?" he asked in disbelief. "Now?"  
  
Elle didn't answer. She was feeling very weak and feverish.  
  
"I can't...I need to stay awake," she struggled to say.  
  
After a short moment of rest, she managed to open her eyes. Draco was still staring at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  
"Are you high?" he questioned seriously.  
  
Elle stared back at him, her vision slightly blurry.   
  
Suddenly, a huge, earth-shattering vibration shook the mansion, causing the pair of prisoners to lose their balance and be thrown from side to side against the wall, the chains rattling even more noisily.  
  
After a few moments, the mansion became still again, but an odd chill settled over them. The chains that had been clamped tightly to their wrists finally broke apart, and Elle and Draco both fell face-forward onto the dirty stone floor.  
  
"What," Draco said, coughing and pulling himself into a half-sitting, half-standing position, "in the name of hell, was that?"  
  
Elle shrugged tiredly and managed to pull herself up, but she continued to feel sluggish, and every bone inside of her ached.  
  
Blinking at Draco, she said quietly, "I have no idea what that was. But I think I might be able to get us out now."  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "How?" he asked.  
  
Elle flexed her now free fingers. "Powers, remember?" she said lightly, with a slight strain in her voice.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, right," he said thickly. "The amazing, fantastic powers that you never seem to use."  
  
She cleared her throat and blinked several more times to clear her mind. Concentrating hard and raising her hands at the lock on the door, she tried as hard as she could to make the lock break and for the door to blast open. She willed it to fall apart, or smash, or...something.   
  
But the longer she continued trying, the more foolish she felt.  _Why was nothing happening? Why wasn't her magic working?_  
  
Draco sniggered, obviously amused by her attempts. "You look ridiculous," he blurted out.  
  
Elle opened her eyes and threw him a dirty look. "I'm trying," she said honestly, now giving the bloodstained cell door a confused look. "I don't know why it's not opening.”  
  
Draco sighed and shook his head. "Forgive me, but I don't exactly trust these so-called powers of yours," he said haughtily.  
  
Elle glared at him icily. "Fine, then. If you're so brilliant, why don't you try it?"  
  
"Can't," Draco answered grumpily. "They stole my wand, remember? And you don't have yours either, do you?"  
  
Elle swallowed and shook her head, though stopped after realizing that her head now felt like it weighed five hundred pounds. She suddenly felt much more frightened than she had a couple of minutes ago. She couldn't explain why her powers had suddenly decided to ditch her at this crucial moment. Without the aid of wandless magic, and of course, without her actual wand, she felt insanely vulnerable.  
  
Despite her current state of exhaustion, she racked her brain to try and remember what they had discussed at the meeting earlier that day. It felt like a hundred years ago, but even though she hadn't paid that much attention, thanks to Calla, she remembered dimly about the potion, and that it had to do with a person's blood, and that...  
  
"Oh no," she whispered, closing her eyes.  
  
"What?" Draco asked.  
  
"The potion," she groaned, barely audible. "Voldemort stole my powers! Him and his whole army!"  
  
Draco's jaw dropped. "You're joking!" he exclaimed. “That’s what this is about? Voldemort now has…wandless magic?”   
  
"Draco," Elle said, her voice faint and far away. "I hate to say this, but...we are  _majorly_  screwed."

 

* * *

 

It was all coming back to them like déjà vu. Even though they had Apparated this time instead of traveling by train, there was still that same feeling of dread, growing ever deeper the closer they got to Voldemort's mansion.   
  
But this time, Harry was more than ready. He was determined not to leave tonight without a fight. All this pain, all this suffering, all this waiting...it would never end, as long as Voldemort remained alive. But Harry was prepared to finish him off for good, to end the war once and for all, and to make sure nobody else got hurt. It all rested on his shoulders now, but for some reason, he felt no fear. Only courage and strength, and an anger that burned inside him so deeply that it seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive.   
  
Across the dreaded waters and up the gravel stone path they went, until at last, they were standing in front of the mansion once more.  
  
Clutching his sword tightly in his other hand, Harry raised his wand and prepared to blast open the door. Little did he know, there was no need for such a dramatic entrance. The door creaked slowly open on its own, beckoning them into the sinister darkness, as if whatever force that lay inside had been expecting some sort of attempted intrusion.  
  
Harry shared one quick glance with Dumbledore, before their army burst into the mansion, wands and weapons at the ready. It quickly became clear to them, however, that the circumstances were definitely different this time around.   
  
For example, they didn't have to comb through the mansion, searching for signs of life. Voldemort's army was already standing at the center of the torch-filled room, awaiting their arrival.  
  
Harry heard several gasps behind him. He kept his gaze fixed on every single one of the Death Eaters, trying to make out the faces lurking behind the masks. What threw him off was the green, shimmering light emanating off their bodies, causing their hands and arms to glow- an image he recognized from Elle, when she had first obtained her powers on her seventeenth birthday.   
  
The sight brought a sickening realization. Voldemort had obviously already collected Elle's blood and had drunk the potion, along with the rest of his army. It had finally been completed, and Elle could very possibly be dead.  
  
"Don't do anything yet," Harry murmured out of the side of his mouth to Hermione, who was giving him a questioning stare.  
  
"Now Harry, don't you think it is I who should be giving the orders?" an all too familiar voice spoke, sending a sweeping chill throughout the room.  
  
Harry's eyes immediately burned with fiery hatred as he heard the voice that would always send unpleasant tingles down his spine, and would always haunt his dreams. His scar seared.   
  
"No, not really," he replied, in the most annoying tone he could muster. "So... you’ve finally decided to face me at last?"  
  
Stepping out of the shadows, Voldemort's eyes seemed to penetrate right through Harry's skull. Harry's scar seared, but his body seemed oblivious, if not numb, to the pain. At least one thing was certain...after tonight, it would burn no more...  
  
"Yes Harry," Voldemort said softly. "I stand here, facing you...my one true hindrance...I shudder to call you my equal, although one can no longer deny it. You will never be more respected alive than you will in death, I can assure you."  
  
"Yeah, well, I didn't come here to die," Harry said. He felt Ron shudder slightly next to him, and vowed to be invincible against fear, however much it was clawing at him. "You and your Death Eaters will be destroyed, no matter what kind of power you had to steal.”  
  
Voldemort's eyes flashed, but he regained his composure. "Interesting words of spirit," he said, a twisted grin contorting his grotesque features. "Don't fool yourself into thinking I am not aware of the kind of power you believe you possess tonight. Do you honestly presume that love will save you?”  
  
"It is a theory we are willing to put to the test, Tom," Dumbledore spoke, smiling calmly. "Now unless I am mistaken, I believe you have spent years formulating a highly effective plan, a plan which you have been preparing to put into practice tonight. So why waste any more time chatting? We'd love to see what you have in store for us."  
  
Harry saw the gleam in Voldemort’s eyes and instinctively knew what was about to happen.  
  
"GET DOWN!" he bellowed, and not a second too soon.  
  
Curses were already being thrown their way, a little too enthusiastically in his opinion. He heard shouts of "Crucio!" and "Avada Kedavra!" and could only pray that the jets of light billowing out from the Death Eater's fingertips were missing their targets. He had never known Elle's ability to perform wandless magic could work this effectively- Voldemort's army was ten times more powerful than they normally would've been. But it wasn't enough...they had to fight back...

Harry watched as his fellow DA members swung their blades, and heard the crashing sounds of metal against metal. The flashes of silver and sparks soon became a blur as combat switched from swords to wands, and back to swords again. He knew he ought to move, but was rooted to the floor as he watched Dean swing his sword against Yaxley’s black weapon, and as Luna gave a slight smirk as she sneakily imperioused two Death Eaters at once- both of them dropped their blades immediately and wandered off in a daze, leaving Luna quite unscathed. 

Hermione and Ron stood back to back. Ron’s shadow sword sliced through Wormtail’s arm before the small man even knew what was happening, sending his silver-gloved hand flying through the air. Hermione dueled Dolohov opposite Ron, and Dolohov’s clumsy weapon was no match for her sharp blade. As both opponents fell, Hermione and Ron lowered their swords, turned to face each other, and both exclaimed breathlessly, “I love you!”

All the Aurors and Order members soon decided to take on each Death Eater individually. Many of them had succeeded in quickly stunning or petrifying their opponents, but nevertheless, wands were no match compared to Elle's powers, and four or five Order members were already lying on the ground, motionless.   
  
Harry was too far away to see who they were, but before he could dash over and inspect the damage, he felt someone tug sharply on his arm.  
  
"Look at Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed into his ear.  
  
Harry turned around, and saw the trace of a glistening white beard whip around the corner...the very corner where the edge of a black cloak vanished only seconds before. Harry quickly scanned the room...Voldemort was no longer there...  
  
"He's gone after Voldemort!"  
  
Harry jumped to his feet. He wasn't going to let Voldemort get away this time, and he certainly wasn't going to let Dumbledore fight his battle for him. But before he could get very far, a sudden jet of green light shot out from one of the Death Eater's pointed fingers, heading straight toward him. Thankfully, a different pair of hands pulled him out of the way just in time.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said, trying to catch his breath and looked around to see who had pulled him to safety. He was surprised to see Ginny standing there, her face white, cheeks flushed, but looking determined all the same. She had travelled there with him by side-along apparition, after outright refusing her parents' wishes that she stay behind.   
  
"You'll want to be more careful," she said wryly, handing Harry back his sword, which he had accidentally dropped in his haste to avoid being killed. "McGonagall and Mundungus have been cursed. I'm not sure if they're going to be alright, and the others aren't doing too well either," Ginny continued, shouting now to make herself heard over the cries and screams filling the room. "I passed Neville. He's really hurt...I think a Death Eater stabbed him with his own sword. But you should have seen him Harry, he took out Voldemort’s giant snake! Sliced the head clean off! There was a lot of blood, but I took care of him the best I could. And that Death Eater won't be messing with our weapons again any time soon, that's for sure."  
  
"Thanks Ginny," Harry said darkly, deflecting two more curses that were headed his way with a flick of his wand, and retaliating against the sender with a few hexes of his own. The masked figure that had been aiming at Harry immediately dropped to the floor, where he lay quite still, even though people on both sides were trampling him.  
  
Harry turned to Ginny.  
  
"Go back to Neville," he said quickly. "He did really well, you both did. Try to get him out of here. And, take this." He hastily took the invisibility cloak out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Anybody who's been hurt, try to help them the best you can. I'm not going to let anyone in the Order die tonight."  
  
Ginny nodded, and took the cloak from Harry. "Have you seen Draco anywhere?" she asked. Harry sensed panic in her voice for the first time.  
  
"No, I haven't," he replied, frowning. "But I don't really have time to worry about Malfoy right now. Just be careful!"  
  
Ginny put on the cloak and disappeared from sight. Hermione let out a small cry of desperation from beside him.  
  
"Oh Harry, this is no use!" she shouted frantically. "They'll destroy us all!"  
  
Harry swallowed. "We've got to find Elle," he said firmly. "The sooner we find her and give her back her powers, the better." He sighed, and then turned just as Ron hurried towards them, looking winded.  
  
"We need to split up," Harry said to him and Hermione, ignoring their alarmed faces. "If we stay together, somebody could curse us from behind and kill us all at once. If we separate, at least they won't be able to get us at the same time."  
  
Ron took a deep breath, and nodded. "Fair enough, mate.”  
  
Hermione gave him a concerned look. "Where are you going to go?" she asked.  
  
"The dungeons," Harry answered instantly. “They might have her locked up in there. I'll meet up with you two later."  
  
And with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he turned his back on his two best friends. They’ll be alright, he kept telling himself.    
  
He heard the two of them rush off, no doubt trying to attack as many Death Eaters as possible, when he heard a voice speak to him from somewhere to his left.  
  
"Looking for your wife?" came the smooth, silky tones of Damien, the one Death Eater they had been using to get information on Voldemort.  
  
Harry faced him, overcome with rage. "What did you do to her?" he asked in a dangerous, deadly voice.  
  
"Surely it doesn't matter?" Damien replied evenly, fingering his wand. Harry could distinctly see the green glow surrounding his fingertips, and instinctively tightened his grip on his own weapons. "You know you'd be better off without her. And your daughter too, for that matter."  
  
Harry laughed humorlessly. "I wish I could say the same for you and your Master," he taunted. "But you probably wouldn't be able to last one day without your precious Lord telling you what to do."  
  
Damien sneered at him.   
  
"He gave me one last task," Damien hissed quietly, pointing his finger at Harry. "At first it was to merely capture your wife, but now, the Dark Lord knows about the child. Tell me where your daughter is, and I'll let you live a little longer."  
  
Harry laughed again, but a nervous feeling formed in the pit of his stomach.   
  
"No one is going after my daughter, let alone you," he said, just as dangerously, pointing the sword right at him.  
  
Damien looked slightly panicked. Harry knew that if Voldemort had asked him to kill the baby, and he failed, then Damien would surely not survive the night.  
  
"What I wouldn't give to see you dead, Harry Potter," Damien said quietly, clearly thinking the same thing.   
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "You and half the people in here. But then again, I am standing right here, and you have all these strong powers, so...why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"  
  
Damien lifted his hands, but Harry was already one step ahead of him.  
  
"Crucio!" he bellowed, squeezing his eyes shut, digging up all the hatred and protection he felt for Calla to make this one Unforgivable curse work.  
  
Much to his combined satisfaction and horror, it did. Damien fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in agony.   
  
Trying his best not to look at the disturbing sight, or think too much about what he had just done, Harry swiftly stepped over the thrashing body.  
  
"You're never laying a finger on my daughter," he said quietly to the young Death Eater, before turning his back on the scene and heading straight for the dungeons. "Or anyone else, ever again." 

 

* * *

 

"What's that noise?" Draco asked suddenly, jumping up and pressing his forehead against the cold steel bars, trying to see out.  
  
"No idea," Elle said, frowning. She tried to stand as well, but it felt like she was growing weaker by the second. So,  _this_ was what it felt to be powerless. Tonight, she was no better off than a muggle.  
  
Closing her eyes, she focused instead on listening to the strange shouting and thumping noises coming from overhead. "It sounds like somebody's fighting," she remarked. Opening her eyes for a split second, Elle saw the shadow of a figure creeping toward them.  
  
"Draco, get back!" she shouted suddenly.  
  
Draco understood at once. Flinging himself backwards, him and Elle both backed up against the wall, motionless in their apprehension. As the man stepped into the dim blue light, Elle recognized him at once as Macnair, the same person who accompanied Bellatrix to come and capture her. Only this time, Elle noted dully, a familiar green glow surrounded his fingertips...the mark of someone who had just gained enormous power.  
  
As he came closer to the bars of their cell, Elle could tell that he looked aggravated, and it became clear that it must not have been his choice to come down here.  
  
 _He was probably ordered to come and baby-sit us so we can't escape_ , she thought bitterly.  
  
As it turned out, she was correct. Sneering at them, Macnair reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, along with a long, glistening, black steel sword- one that was much longer and thicker than the ones the Order had been practicing with. Brandishing the two at the prisoners in a threatening manner, Macnair stood straight-backed against the wall facing them and stood silent, but menacing.  
  
Elle and Draco shared a hesitant look, but were too afraid to speak to each other with this new presence in the room, watching over them with a beady glare.  
  
Even though she was exhausted, and practically trembling with frailty, Elle continued to gaze back and forth between Draco and Macnair, and was finally hit with an idea. Draco had mentioned her gaining weight, which made her think about Calla, which made her think about what it had felt like before Calla was born, and having to run to the bathroom all the time. It wasn't exactly the smartest idea, and it could get both her and Draco killed, but she had to do something...  
  
Giving Draco a look that told him quite plainly not to interject, Elle shakily stood up and sauntered over to the Death Eater, leaning against the bars that barricaded her from freedom and trying to look as alluring as possible- even though she felt completely the opposite.  
  
"Um, excuse me?" she asked, trying to sound innocent and dim-witted. It wasn't that hard.  
  
Macnair glared at her, and Elle became extremely grateful for the barrier between them.  
  
"You will stay where you are," he said at once, before she could utter another word. "Your fate lies with the Dark Lord now.”  
  
Elle sighed. "Of course," she said. "I just wanted to ask you a question."  
  
"What?" Macnair spat in disgust.  
  
Elle swallowed. "I have to use the toilet."  
  
Macnair stared at her as if she had five hundred heads.  
  
"So?" he asked, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Behind her back, Draco was staring at her open-mouthed. Elle wanted to roll her eyes. Didn't anyone ever have to go to the bathroom in the middle of these epic battle scenes she had always watched in movies? It wasn't  _that_  unrealistic.   
  
"So," Elle replied, as calmly as she could. "Can you let me out of here? You guys do have indoor plumbing, right?”  
  
Macnair smirked, pocketing his wand but holding the sword up higher, as if making sure Elle could see it properly. "I don't think so," he responded coldly.  
  
Elle kicked her foot against the bars, pretending to be outraged. "You mean you're not going to let me out? What am I supposed to do, pee all over the dungeon floor?”  
  
Draco slapped his hand against his forehead, truly embarrassed for her.  
  
Macnair shook his head. "That's your problem," he said uninterestedly. "You're not getting out."  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "It's not like this is a big deal," she said reasonably. "Look, you seem like a very smart guy. I bet Voldemort trusts you with everything...fills you in on all his plans...gives you the most dangerous assignments. I'll even bet that you're the best Death Eater of all. So how it would look to Voldemort if he comes down here, prepared to kill me, and then finds me already dead, because you wouldn't let me go to the bathroom? He wouldn't be very pleased with you, would he? Think about it. Your reputation would be shot, and you'd probably get cursed for not following orders."  
  
Pausing for a moment, she looked up at Macnair, and saw that he was gazing at her with a slightly quizzical stare.  
  
When Macnair didn't say anything, Elle continued.  
  
"Please, Sir," she pleaded, getting on her hands and knees and clinging to the bars of her cell desperately. She doubted this man had ever been addressed as “sir” before.  
  
"It'll take two minutes, I swear. You can even follow me and make sure I don't escape. It's not like I have any powers. And I don't have my wand either. So, I'm completely defenseless. But if you don't let me out to use the toilet, I really am going to die...and I would hate to deprive Voldemort of doing that himself."  
  
After a few moments of silence following her speech, Elle looked up, wondering if she had been just a tad too dramatic. Astonishingly, her little performance seemed to have done the trick. Macnair seemed deeply amused by the amount of power he had over her, and he probably thought she was too stupid to attempt an escape anyway.  
  
"Very well," said the Death Eater in a bored voice.  
  
He lifted a finger and, using the powers that used to be Elle's, broke the lock on the cell door by narrowing his eyes. Ignoring this arrogant display that was clearly meant to taunt her further, Elle hesitantly pushed on the cell door to see if it would actually open. It did.  
  
"You have two minutes," Macnair ordered, pulling her by the arm and yanking her out roughly. Slamming the door shut again and locking it, he gazed at Draco, who had moved hopefully forward. "Stay where you are!"  
  
Malfoy froze, wearing a scornful expression. Elle gave him another look, silently begging for him to remain quiet, and wrenched herself out of Macnair's grip.  
  
"Are you going to follow me?" she asked carefully.  
  
Macnair smirked again. "I don't think there's any need for that," he said. "What can a stupid girl with no powers possibly do?”  
  
Elle took a shaky breath, but regained enough strength to give the nasty Death Eater a confident grin.  
  
"Not much," she supplied. "But I don't need powers for  _this_."  
  
And then, without warning, she threw out her leg, kicking Macnair for the second time that night- not in the face, but in the groin. As the man dropped his sword and keeled over with a painful howl, Elle swiftly stole the wand from his pocket and bent down to pick up the sword.  
  
Raising Macnair's wand, she bellowed "Stupefy!" The man fell to the floor, unconscious.  
  
Elle then turned back towards the cell door. "Reducto!" she shouted, pointing the wand at the lock. The lock blasted apart, and Elle kicked aside the door to let Draco out.  
  
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Draco shouted at her the second he had gotten out. "You could have gotten the both of us killed!"  
  
"Well it worked, and if it hadn't been for me, we'd still be stuck in there," she argued. Swaying on her feet slightly, weaker than ever after attacking Macnair, she tossed Draco the wand.  
  
"Keep that," she said, struggling slightly for breath. "I'm going to keep the sword. The sooner we find out what's going on and get out of here, the better."  
  
Draco frowned at her. "How come you get to keep the sword?" he asked.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Seriously?”  
  
Draco rolled his own eyes in response. "I don't understand why you didn't just finish him off," he muttered, kicking Macnair's lifeless body.  
  
Elle took a deep breath, feeling faint. "I just...couldn't do it," she said. "Let Voldemort deal with him."  
  
Draco shrugged. "Let's make a run for it."  
  
As the two of them began to make their way out of the dungeon, Draco turned to Elle once more.  
  
"You know," he said conversationally. "You'd make an incredible actress."  
  
Elle sighed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

Harry had barely stepped two feet past the point where he had left Damien when he found himself stopped once again by two more Death Eaters, who were blocking the entrance to the dungeons. Turning to his side, he tried to step around them, but more Death Eaters kept coming his way, brandishing their swords and shouting curses.

Dodging the spells, and now fully frustrated, Harry spun around to see if there was an alternate route, but instead discovered three more masked men coming his way. Death Eaters had him surrounded.  
  
"Get back!" he shouted at them, getting ready to strike with his own sword, when he heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Harry, we've got to get rid of these guys!" called Brian from directly behind him.  
  
Harry turned, and was very surprised to see Brian whip out one of the smaller swords Dumbledore had supplied him with and fling it straight into the stomach of a rather large Death Eater. It was all done in one quick, clean motion, and as Brian withdrew his now crimson sword, the Death Eater staggered, and finally fell face-forward onto the floor.  
  
Harry stared at Brian, amazed.  
  
"How...?" he asked, but Brian only grinned.  
  
"I play a lot of video games," he said, quickly ducking as a bolt of red light shot over his head.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, and the Death Eater who had just tried to curse Brian flew backwards and hit the wall with a sickening thud.  
  
"Well," Harry said, looking back at Brian. "I'm glad to see you're, uh, doing okay."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Brian exclaimed enthusiastically, stopping a Death Eater who had just tried to stab him by blocking him with his sword. "Fighting bad guys and saving the world? This is awesome! Any luck with finding Elle?" he asked, finally succeeding in freezing the Death Eater and coming over to Harry.  
  
"Not yet," Harry said. "Uh oh."  
  
More and more Death Eaters were closing in on them, and Harry and Brian were forced to stand back to back, facing the Death Eaters with both wands and swords raised. Harry's heart dropped as his vision was obscured by the masked figures and blurs of green light. They could only dodge the curses for so long, until they were finally hit...  
  
And then, miraculously, two figures came tumbling out of the hidden door that led to the dungeons. Two people whom Harry immediately recognized...  
  
"ELLE!" he shouted, his face lighting up. Out of nowhere, he felt a renewed sense of confidence.  
  
He watched in amazement as she slammed a sword down on top of a Death Eater's head, knocking him out. All the others turned to see who had snuck up on them, and Harry used their distraction to his advantage. He heard Brian shout "Impedimenta!" behind him, and Harry instantly raised his own wand to shout out the first curse that came to mind: the killing curse.  
  
It was the first time he had ever attempted to use this particular curse, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt extremely disgusted. He felt as though he had just committed an awful sin.   
  
However, it worked. There was a blinding flash of emerald light, and the Death Eater directly in front of him fell to the ground, dead.  
  
Once the Death Eaters realized what had happened, thousands of flashes came his way, but Harry was too quick for them.  
  
"Protego!" he yelled, and a magical field appeared, encircling him and protecting him from any curse or hex thrown his way. And then, he heard another voice shout the killing curse...a voice he had not been expecting.  
  
"Malfoy," he muttered under his breath, watching him shoot the curse toward the eight Death Eaters that remained before them. Most fell to the ground before they had even noticed Malfoy was there, and once he was sure he was out of danger, Harry disposed of the shield and drew back his sword.  
  
He saw a Death Eater grab Elle by the wrist, and Harry punched him in the face. The man released Elle and drew his sword, but Harry thrust his blade upwards, and the weapons clinked together sharply.  
  
"Nice sword," Harry said to the man, observing the smooth, black steel. "But I bet it can't do this."  
  
And as Harry moved closer to attack, the tip of the blade burst into brilliant, fiery red and orange flames, illuminating the Death Eater's face for a split second before the sleeve of the man's cloak caught on fire. Panicked, the Death Eater rushed away, trying desperately to put out the flames, and Harry turned around to face Elle. Brian, who had managed to stun the rest of the pack, faced her as well.   
  
Elle gave them both a weak smile.  
  
"Hello boys," she said, her face sickly gray and her voice frail.  
  
Harry and Brian both looked at her, stunned.  
  
"You're okay," Harry said in relief, fighting the impulse to take her in his arms and never let go.  
  
Elle nodded. "I'm okay," she replied, trying her best to sound nonchalant. She winced, clutching at a stitch in her side. "Kind of."  
  
"But we came to rescue you!" Brian exclaimed.  
  
Elle laughed, and grinned at him.  
  
"Thank you," she said, slightly amused. "But you're too late. I've already rescued myself."  
  
Harry frowned at her. "What did they do to you?" he asked sharply, noting the way she was trembling, and the strain in her voice. "And why were you with Malfoy?"  
  
Malfoy scowled, and looked away. Elle sighed.  
  
"It’s a long story. He got captured too," she said slowly. "Harry, all of my magic is gone! Voldemort and his army have stolen..."  
  
"I know," Harry interrupted. "It was the potion- Validus Cruor. You've got to get your powers back."  
  
Harry raised his wand and muttered a summoning spell. Elle’s Goddess dagger came soaring into his outstretched hand, and he handed it to his wife. Elle dropped the black sword she was holding and took back the blade that was rightfully hers.  
  
"But how?" Elle asked, exasperated. "There's no way! What if I never get them back?"  
  
She took a shaky breath, and closed her eyes for a few seconds before asking in a panic, "Harry, where's Calla? She's all right, isn't she? They haven't...they haven't taken her?" Harry saw that she had been dwelling on this thought for quite some time.   
  
Harry shook his head and rubbed her arm comfortingly. "No, she's okay," he reassured her. "You were brilliant, protecting her like that at our flat. Mrs. Weasley is looking after her. I trust Mrs. Weasley to keep her safe."  
  
Elle nodded, relieved. "So do I," she said firmly. "What about Hermione, Ron, and Ally? Are they okay?"  
  
"As far as I know," Harry answered. He heard footsteps, and whipped around. With an angry growl, Harry grabbed Elle as Crabbe rushed toward them, his mask slipping in his haste to curse them. Before he could raise his wand, Harry thrust his sword toward Elle. 

“Grab on!” he shouted. Elle placed her hands over Harry’s, and together, they thrust the blade toward Crabbe. Flames burst into life as the pointy end caught Crabbe in the chest. He howled in pain and fell to the floor, his cloak catching fire.

“Good one!” Elle told Harry appreciatively, but then gasped as she saw an ebony sword flying toward them, as if flung angrily from a Death Eater. “Watch out!” she screamed, pushing Harry out of the way.

They both heard the blade clash against the wall facing them, and Harry grinned at his wife. “Thanks,” he said, before a jet of red light behind Elle caught his eye. Without thinking, he cast a nonverbal shield charm, and the curse barely missed them.

Elle gazed up at Harry ruefully. “Thanks,” she grinned back.

Harry took a silent moment to appreciate the fact he and Elle were actually flirting in the middle of a battle, but then he saw her face whiten and her hands shake.

"Look, we've got to get you out of here,” Harry insisted. “You’re weak from losing your powers, and could be losing strength by the minute. I've got to find Voldemort..."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," Elle said, determined. "I'm staying, and I'm helping you fight.”  
  
Harry looked at her piercingly, debating with himself whether he should literally throw her out of the building to keep her away from harm, when the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange lurking a few feet behind Elle caught his attention. She was staring with murder in her eyes at the escaped prisoner.   
  
"Elle, watch out!" he screamed.  
  
Elle spun around just in time. Bellatrix had shouted "Avada Kedavra!", but Elle jumped out of the way. The curse missed her by inches.  
  
Harry went to point his own wand at Bellatrix, but before he knew it, Elle had gone after her.  
  
“Elle no!” he shouted, but it was too late. Elle raced after the woman, her dagger clutched tightly in her hand, and the two women disappeared behind a column.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione yelled suddenly, limping towards him from the other side of the room, blood dripping down her leg. "You've got to come quick! Something's happened to Dumbledore, and I think Voldemort has gone to summon the Dementors again! The house elves have arrived, the giants are on their way, and the Aurors are doing fairly well...I don't think these Death Eaters are too bright when it comes to using Elle's powers. But Harry, I don't know what else we can do!"  
  
"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said. “I found Elle and she's alright, but then she went after Bellatrix. We’ve got to figure out how to give her back her powers. What happened to your leg?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing. One of the Death Eaters tried to stab me, but the sword fell and ended up slicing my leg instead." She scoffed. "Figures, their blunders cause more damage than their spells."  
  
"We’ll get that fixed up as soon as possible," Harry said. "Where's Ron?"  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, but exactly where Ron was, Harry never found out. While his back was turned, he heard two female voices shouting.  
  
He turned around to see Elle and Bellatrix reemerge. Elle slashed her dagger at Bellatrix’s face, and blood began pouring from the woman’s cheek. Bellatrix glared, and raised her glowing hands. A bolt of red light hit Elle and she fell to the floor, gasping.  
  
“Elle!” Harry shouted. He tried to run over to her, but a shout of “Petrificas Totalus!” froze him in place.  
  
He watched in horror as Bellatrix raised a sword. Then, with an evil smile at Harry, she plunged it straight into Elle’s stomach.   
  
Harry wanted to scream, but he was immobilized. Brian had disappeared, and Hermione was dueling with a Death Eater on his other side.   
  
Hermione finally succeeded in stunning her adversary and turned to Harry. She raised her wand, and the jinx lifted.  
  
“Hermione, come on!” he yelled, and they both dashed towards Elle.  
  
Bellatrix was standing over Elle with a horrible look of triumph on her face. Cackling, she pulled out the sword, threw it at Elle’s feet, and ran off, pocketing a vial as she swept away.   
  
Harry couldn’t go after her. He was too busy staring at Elle in terror.   
  
Her eyes were screwed up in pain. Blood was pouring out from the wound. But it wasn't one of Voldemort's swords- Bellatrix had obviously stolen it from their side, because the handle was gold and the blade was silver.  
  
"No!" Harry whispered, throwing himself onto the ground beside her. "No, please Elle..."  
  
He looked desperately up at Hermione, who immediately bent down to help Harry get Elle into a sitting position, leaning her back against the nearby wall.  
  
"Elle," Hermione said softly, staring at her helplessly.  
  
Elle said nothing. Her eyes were still tightly shut, and her breath was coming out in scattered gasps. Her face was ghostly white, and she was trembling worse than ever.  
  
"I'm fine," she gasped out, opening her eyes and staring at Harry and Hermione. "It's not that bad...I'll be okay in a…in a minute..."  
  
But as her eyes locked onto Harry's, Harry could tell that she didn’t believe it. Leaning over her body, Harry examined the spot where Bellatrix had sloppily stabbed her in her haste to kill. The cut was large, but didn't look very deep...maybe there would be a chance that Elle would survive.  
  
But as he looked closer at the bleeding gash, he noticed a green substance mixed in with Elle's blood, and panic swept over him. Glancing at the sword, his fear was confirmed. Elle had been stabbed by the Dragon sword…. the sword that had belonged to Malfoy. Harry's insides squirmed unpleasantly as he remembered Dumbledore's exact words:  _"This one is especially mutinous, because the blade is poisonous, and it will kill whoever it contacts slowly and painfully."_  
  
Hermione seemed to realize this the same time Harry did. Steadily, she picked up the sword and held it to the light. Sure enough, along with the blood glistening on the silver blade, there shone a dark liquid green substance. Draco ran up to them, and frowned as he looked down at the sword Hermione was holding.  
  
"I was looking for that," he said, sounding winded. "That's mine..."  
  
He stopped, and stared at Elle with his eyes wide. "What…what happened…”  
  
“Bellatrix stabbed her,” Hermione told him shakily.  
  
A dark look passed over Draco’s face. “She needs help. Has anyone seen Ginny? She was helping the injured, wasn’t she?” he asked anxiously.  
  
Harry remained silent. He was barely aware of anything around him. It just wasn't possible. His nightmare couldn't come true. Elle couldn't possibly die...  
  
Hermione was gazing at Harry with tears in her eyes. "Harry," she whispered, wanting to help him, but not knowing what to say.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said finally, gazing at Elle. "Malfoy. You two go and get somebody from the Order. I don't care who it is. Tell them Elle got stabbed by a poisonous sword, and that she needs help immediately. Go NOW.”  
  
Hermione and Draco nodded, and both quickly fled the area.  
  
Harry swallowed and grasped Elle's hand, which was trembling and shaking so much that he could barely hold onto it.  
  
"Elle, just hang on," he said to her, as she closed her eyes and cringed in pain. "Somebody's on their way. You'll be okay.”  
  
Elle grimaced, and took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is all my fault...none of this should have happened..."  
  
"Stop it," Harry said, keeping his eyes fixed firmly upon her face. He was afraid that if he looked anywhere else all he'd see would be blood, and he couldn't stand to see Elle covered in it. "This is  _not_  your dramatic death scene moment; you don’t get to steal the show this time. Do you understand? Everything will turn out fine, okay? You have to trust me."  
  
Elle's eyes grew watery. "I love you," she said.   
  
Harry's heart got caught in his throat, and he shook his head. It sounded as though it were costing her a great deal to speak.   
  
"Elle, come on, don’t do that," he said angrily. "Open your eyes."  
  
A tear fell down Elle's cheek, but her eyes didn't open. Harry didn't know what to do, but he knew he could not let her give up.  
  
"Elle!" he commanded, giving her shoulders a little shake. "Listen to me! Elle!"  
  
Nothing happened. Harry sighed, and racked his brain for ways to keep her from surrendering to the pain.  
  
"Danielle, please," he finally whispered. “Stay with me.”  
  
Elle opened her eyes, and looked at him with unfocused, vague surprise. He had never called her by that name before.   
  
"Just leave me Harry," she whispered. "You have to fight Voldemort. Go."  
  
Harry sighed, and bowed his head.  
  
"Please," he begged her again. "I need you. Calla needs you. Think of your daughter. Our little girl can't be left without a mother. I can't do all the future embarrassing and coddling myself. You have to do it with me. We’ve been doing so well…we…you…make a really good parent. Come on…”  
  
Elle teared up even more. "If I don’t make it," she said weakly, tears falling from her eyes even harder. "Take care of her. Let her know I love her more than anything.”   
  
Harry closed his own eyes. He thought of Bellatrix, and his insides seared with hatred. First Neville's parents, then Sirius, and now Elle...  
  
After a few moments, Hermione reappeared, accompanied by Ron, Brian, Malfoy, and Lupin.  
  
"Stand back, Harry," Lupin said to him gently, as he bent down to get a closer look at Elle. Ron looked over at her and shuddered.  
  
Harry reluctantly stood, but continued to watch carefully. Lupin took out his wand and waved it over Elle a few times. Elle winced, but kept her eyes tightly shut. A couple of minutes passed, until Lupin put his wand away and instead took out from inside his patched robes a small crystal container filled with clear liquid.  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked at once.  
  
"Phoenix tears," Lupin replied calmly. "Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to store some, in case of emergencies."   
  
And with that, he uncorked the bottle and poured its entire contents over the gash in Elle's stomach.   
  
"Will she be okay?" Harry demanded, the second the bottle had been emptied. Lupin narrowed his eyes in thought.  
  
"There will definitely be some scarring," he said after a while. "It really depends on how far the poison has traveled into her bloodstream. If the wound is shallow enough, then she'll survive. But if it's too deep..." He sighed gravely. "I suppose we'll just have to wait," he concluded.  
  
Harry nodded, too furious to think straight. All he wanted was to go after Bellatrix, and make her suffer the way she had made Harry suffer.  
  
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, in a hushed tone. "Look."  
  
Harry looked to where Hermione was pointing, and was shocked at what he saw. Death Eaters everywhere were flaunting their swords and shouting curses, but nothing was happening. No green light shot from their fingertips, and the glow emanating from their bodies had disappeared. Somehow, unbelievably, their powers had vanished.  
  
As Harry glanced back at Elle, he saw to his further bewilderment that her hands were now glowing a faint shade of green, and that some color seemed to have returned to her face. As she opened her eyes, Harry noticed that she looked more energized, and not like a person laying on their deathbed.

 Elle and Harry shared a look and, to Harry’s immense surprise, Elle smiled. She took a deep breath, and flexed her hands. A huge energetic wave, like an electric shot, sprang from her fingertips. The walls and floor shook, and the Death Eaters all looked at their swords in horror. The blades were melting before their very eyes; the weapons were useless, and Voldemort’s army had lost their powers.   
  
"I don't understand," Harry said slowly. "How come the potion stopped working?"  
  
"Think about it, Harry," said Hermione. "The main ingredient for the potion was Elle's blood. But now, her blood’s been poisoned, so the potion is contaminated. It can no longer work."  
  
"But how can that be?" Ron asked. "They used her blood before she got poisoned."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "They've been adding more blood to the potion every so often. I bet you anything Bellatrix ran off to add more. I suppose they think that the more blood they have, the stronger the potion will be and the longer their powers will last, so they keep adding and drinking." She sighed. "But Bellatrix didn't know what that sword did. She doesn't know that she just added tainted blood."  
  
"Good," Elle said quietly.   
  
Lupin peered down at her. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.  
  
Elle shifted her body up a little more, her fingers scrambling over the slowly healing wound. "Better,” she replied.  
  
Harry felt a little relieved. Maybe Elle would be okay. The wound certainly did seem to be shrinking; now that Lupin had added the Phoenix Tears. But they still did not know how far the poison had traveled…  
  
"CRUCIO!"  
  
Blinding, enormous pain shot through Harry suddenly as though a thousand burning knives were piercing his whole body. The agony was unbearable, and as he collapsed onto the floor he couldn't help feeling as though this was the end...the torture was too much...he could hear screams, but couldn't tell if they were coming from him or from somebody else.  
  
And then, as suddenly as the pain had come, it stopped. He blinked a couple of times and opened his eyes, only to find that it had been Elle and Hermione screaming. Ron, Brian, and Malfoy were all staring, horrified, at the spot a few feet away from Harry. Gasping for breath, Harry straightened up and spun around.  
  
"You've done well, Harry," Voldemort said, his cloak gliding smoothly over the ground as he closed in on him. "Needless to say, I would be extremely disappointed if you hadn't done your very best to try and defeat me. But this time is different, as I'm sure you have already guessed. This time, you will not win. Even though the potion I've worked tirelessly on for years is no longer effective, I believe it's done more than enough damage already."  
  
He gestured toward Elle lying on the ground, and Harry fumed with anger, ignoring his burning scar.  
  
"We need to end this," Harry said. "Once and for all. No more Death Eaters, no more Dumbledore...just you and me."  
  
Voldemort laughed a cold, mirthless laugh. "For once Harry, it appears that we agree. You wish to duel, one on one?" His eyes gleamed ruby red. "So be it."  
  
Harry raised his sword, ready to plunge it straight into the Dark Lord, but Voldemort got to his wand first.  
  
"Crucio!" he bellowed again. He laughed evilly as Harry doubled over in agony once more.  
  
"Well, look at this," he observed, and there was pleasure in his voice. "All these years of training to kill me, and yet one simple curse is still enough to disable you.”  
  
"Harry!" Elle screamed, watching in fright as her husband struggled to breathe and yell out in pain.  
  
She leapt to her feet and yelped in anguish, forgetting the fact that she had just been stabbed. Brian and Ron both grabbed onto her arms, but she fought against them.  
  
"Elle, don't!" Ron said.  
  
"You'll get yourself killed!" Brian argued.  
  
"We have a plan..." Ron continued, but Elle wasn't listening.  
  
"Let go of me!" she shouted at them, heavy tears running down her face as she continued to stare at Harry. "You expect me to just let him die? If you don't let go, I swear I will hex you both!"  
  
They hastily let go, and Elle ran over to Harry.  
  
"Please!" Elle cried through her tears, flinging herself beside Harry and facing Voldemort. "Please make it stop! You can have me and kill me instead! Take my powers back!”

When Voldemort failed to act, and Harry became silent from the pain of the prolonged curse, Elle yelled in desperation.   
  
“Take the curse off him, you asshole! He’ll surrender once I’m dead! Kill me!”   
  
Voldemort stared at her for a moment, as if he would like nothing more than to see her dead. With a satanic smile, he lifted the curse. "As you wish."  
  
Harry gasped, so thankful to be free of the pain, that his mind went momentarily blank. Through his half-opened eyes, he saw Voldemort advance on Elle and raise his wand.  
  
"No!" he shouted.  
  
Elle’s eyes were wide, and her face was set. Harry couldn't let her do this. Too many people had already sacrificed themselves for him.  
  
"Harry, quickly!" Hermione said, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. "We know what to do, come on..."  
  
And before he knew it, him, Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy were all standing around Voldemort and Elle. Hermione picked Elle’s dagger up off the floor and thrust it into her arms.  
  
"Touch your sword to mine," Hermione commanded, raising her Eagle Talon and staring at Harry with determined eyes.  
  
Harry touched the Flame to hers, and then Ron touched the Shadow Sword to both of theirs. Lastly, Draco picked up his bloodstained weapon and held it against the three of theirs.  
  
For a couple of seconds, nothing happened. Then, silver sparks flew out of Hermione's sword, and sharp, steel edges jutted out of the ground, surrounding them. Next, red sparks flew out of Harry's sword, conjuring a ring of fire that encircled the six of them. Yellow sparks then shot out of Ron's sword, and a pearl-like shield enveloped itself around them. Finally, green sparks shot out of Malfoy's sword. Poisonous fumes emanated from the circle of fire. Harry could see Voldemort breathing them in.  
  
They all surrounded Voldemort, enclosed by a transparent shield, and a ring of steel and fire.  
  
Voldemort's attention had been drawn drastically away from Elle. He gazed around, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of fear enter those morbid eyes. He was trapped.  
  
Elle looked at Harry, and Harry nodded at her. Closing her eyes, Elle concentrated as hard as she could. She gripped the tiny sword, the sword so many people had mocked, and, while Voldemort's eyes were fixed on Harry, took a deep breath and plunged the sword through Voldemort’s chest.  
  
Voldemort let out a roar of rage and pain, and raised his wand. Before he could finish his incantation, however, Harry walked forward and spoke, loudly and clearly, "Avada Kedavra!"  
  
A flash of green light shot from the end of his wand and hit Voldemort straight in the heart. As Voldemort fell, he landed amid the fire, and his body immediately became obscured by flame and smoke.  
  
Grabbing hold of Elle, Harry yelled for Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy to follow him. Throwing down their swords, they ran for it, and when they were at least a good ten feet away, they stood back to watch the whole scene turn ablaze.  
  
The flames grew brighter by the second and licked the ceiling and neighboring walls hungrily. Harry could see the flames slowly turn emerald as smoke filtered through the entire mansion.  
  
Harry found himself rooted to the spot, barely feeling Elle's hand holding tightly onto his.   
  
He knew now that it was over. Voldemort had been destroyed.  
  
  



	48. Bitter Endings and Sweet Beginnings

As Harry stood there, watching the flames burst in front of his eyes like a display of venomous fireworks, he felt numb. Had it happened? Had they just killed Voldemort? He didn't dare to believe it, but as the fire and smoke obscuring the spot where Voldemort had fallen climbed higher, his hope began to rise as well. When no glaring, cloaked figure emerged from the flames, he began to think that perhaps it was possible that Voldemort was gone forever...  
  
Somebody squeezed his hand tightly, which surprised Harry. For a second, he had forgotten everything except for the scene unfolding in front of him. But as he looked down, he saw that Elle was holding onto him, and her eyes held the same kind of feeling that Harry felt. It was an emotion of rare triumph, mingled with apprehension, confusion, and fear. As Harry glanced beside him at Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy, an unspoken question traveled among them. Was it over?  
  
A huge explosion erupted right in front of them, sending sparks throughout the room and causing most of its inhabitants to stop and look around. Death Eaters lowered their wands, and Order members glanced up, their eyes finally falling on Harry and his group. The Death Eaters didn't seem to notice the conspicuous absence of their Master, but the Order seemed to realize what had happened right away. One by one, they all took advantage of the distraction and raised their wands, aiming to kill.  
  
And just like that, Harry knew they had won. Death Eaters were dropping like flies, each and every one screaming in aguish, or captured. Well, all except for Bellatrix Lestrange, who was staring at the spot where Harry had killed Voldemort with an expression of stupefied horror, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Harry had an incredible urge to run over and strangle her, make her beg for her life, but Hermione gasped and grabbed Harry's other arm.  
  
"The mansion!" she cried, sounding hysterical. "Harry, this whole place is going to catch on fire!”  
  
And sure enough, another earth-shattering explosion followed her words. The emerald flames had grown so high that they reached the mansion's wood-paneled ceiling, and as the chandelier smashed to the floor, the smooth banisters lining the staircase caught ablaze. A ring of fire snaked its way across the floor, preying hungrily on fallen swords and bodies. Hermione was right- if they didn't get out of there, and fast, the entire mansion was going to burn down with them inside of it.  
  
"Come on!" he shouted, and, still holding onto Elle's hand, ran for the magnificent doorway that had led into the stone-floored entrance hall. He heard some people behind him attempt to conjure water, but it was no use. The flames seemed resistant to the charm, and only appeared to grow stronger.  
  
Order members began to follow them, their feet thundering loudly as they darted around burning pieces of fallen wood and glowing piles of ember and ash. Thick smoke filled the air, and soon Harry could barely see which way he was going. His glasses were fogging terribly, and the contaminated, putrid air entered his lungs so that he could barely breathe. Coughing, Harry flung out his wand and desperately bellowed "Reducto!" as loud as he could with the little breath he had left.  
  
Thankfully, the wall right in front of him blasted apart, revealing the miraculous night sky and the fresh, soft breeze that awaited them.  
  
Still coughing, Harry and the rest of their army traipsed down the drive leading up to the mansion and towards the shore, where the turbulent, angry ocean lay dauntingly before them.  
  
Harry breathed in the smokeless air and turned around, trying to get his bearings. Elle had let go of his hand and was hunched over, coughing, her hair and face dirty with soot from the fire. Blood shone brightly on her hand and on her stomach, even though the wound had long since stopped bleeding.  
  
Everybody else seemed to be all right, though they looked worse for the wear. Nearly all of them were sporting nasty cuts and bruises, and Snape had a rather ugly lump on his head that certainly hadn't been there before, but none of that was important. The important thing was that they had all gotten out...and that they were all still alive.  
  
Well, all except one. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry realized that he still had no idea where Dumbledore was.  
  
Several loud explosions sounded out from a distance, and Harry glanced back towards the mansion. From his position, the ceiling looked as if it had finally caved in, and the walls were crumbling down, causing more smoke to billow out and float towards the heavens. As he continued to watch, an awful thought occurred to him...what would happen when the fire reached the potion? The island wasn't that big, and the building didn't look like it was holding up very well...plus, it was filled with mixtures of magic. If it did erupt, then they would all surely die...  
  
"We need to get off the island!" he shouted suddenly, earning shocked and surprised looks from everyone standing around him.  
  
McGonagall stared at him with her stern, weather-beaten gaze. She looked a little shaken, but appeared to have recovered from whatever had cursed her earlier.  
  
"The boats are gone," she explained to Harry. "We'll have to conjure more logs and transfigure them for everyone so that we can travel across this ocean."  
  
Harry hesitated and glanced back towards the burning mansion. As much as he hated the idea of plunging into the menacing, tumultuous water, he didn't know if there was enough time to conjure boats for everybody. The mansion could explode at any moment, and they were barely fifty feet away...  
  
Deciding not to take any chances, Harry faced McGonagall.  
  
"There's no time, Professor," he told her firmly. "We'll have to swim. It's not that far to get to the other side, we should be okay."  
  
He took a deep breath, and looked down at Elle. "Can you swim?" he asked her.   
  
She gave him a look, but nodded, sucking in a lungful of air and straightening up slightly.  
  
"Good," Harry said, wiping his glasses clean quickly before replacing them on top of his nose. Elle pointed a finger towards his face, and he felt the glasses suction to his eyes like goggles so that he wouldn't lose them.   
  
He smiled at her gratefully. "Let's go."  
  
Elle dove into the water first, followed by Hermione, and then Ron. Harry watched to make sure every one of his former classmates got safely into the water, and then his professors. After Tonks and Moody jumped in, Harry backed up, took one last glance at Voldemort's now destroyed hideout, and dove headfirst into the icy, pitch-black waves.  
  
The water was freezing. Trying to keep from shaking, and his breathing steady at the same time, he kicked his arms and legs, speeding up to where Elle was swimming and shaking his wet hair out of his eyes.  
  
There was a high-pitched scream. A couple of feet in front of him, he saw Parvati get pulled under the surface by an exceptionally large wave, and he instantly lunged forward to grab her. But before Harry could reach her, she had already disappeared under the surface.  
  
"I've got her," Elle said to Harry, and without hesitation, she took a deep breath before slipping underwater.  
  
"Elle!" Harry cried in warning, but it was too late.   
  
Harry watched desperately, not wanting to lose her twice in one night. To his relief Elle and Parvati both reappeared after a few minutes. Elle was struggling to support the other girl with her arms; Parvati was choking and gasping for breath. Harry swam forward to help, both steadying Parvati by each arm. 

Parvati spat out sea water and gazed at Elle. “This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, through chattering teeth.

Elle pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and gripped Parvati tighter. “I know,” she said shortly. “Hang on, we’re almost there.”  
  
And just then, right behind them, Harry heard the loudest blast he had ever heard in his life. He didn't need to turn around to see what had happened, for the scene was reflected on the water's surface, and it lit up the entire night sky.  
  
The mansion had indeed erupted- the whole island was covered in flames, including the spot where Harry and the Order of the Phoenix had been standing moments before they plunged into the sea. It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw smoke-shaped skulls floating over the mansion's burning remains.  
  
Harry shuddered, and turned away from the image, knowing that the sight he had just witnessed would haunt his dreams for years.  
  
After what seemed like hours, the stretch of land across from the island came into view, and Harry could distinctly make out a couple of figures already standing on it. He was exhausted beyond belief and tired of fighting against the furious waves, but with a few last mighty strokes he managed to reach the safety of the shore. A hand reached down to help him, Elle, and Parvati, and Harry took it gratefully, allowing himself to be pulled onto dry land.  
  
He collapsed onto the sand, taking deep breaths and shivering. As he shook his sopping wet hair off his face, he noticed that it had been Lupin who pulled him out. Ginny was also there, helping Lupin pull people out of the dangerous ocean.   
  
Neville was lying a few feet away from Harry, but unlike everyone else his clothes were dry, and his body was very still. He was floating on what appeared to be a magical, makeshift gurney and his head was wrapped in a white cloth.   
  
Harry continued to watch as Ginny helped Elle, both supporting Parvati and coaxing her to lie near a spot right next to Neville. Harry sat up, but his legs were shaking too badly to walk over to her.  
  
"Elle," he croaked weakly, too tired to shout. Elle walked slowly over to him and sat down.  
  
"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly, her teeth chattering. She was trembling horribly, and her hair was dripping. Most of the blood on her stomach had been washed away, but he could imagine her wound stinging painfully.   
  
Harry shook his head. The painful after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse had not yet vanished, and he was freezing cold.  
  
Still feeling slightly numb, and with his head throbbing painfully, he glanced around to make sure that everyone had gotten out of the icy, turbulent sea. He was afraid that somebody might have drowned, like Parvati nearly did, or that someone had not gotten off the island fast enough and had burned to death.  
  
Before he could get up and be certain of this, he closed his eyes, and found himself slowly slipping away from the shouting voices and the distant sight of the flickering flames.

 

* * *

 

Blinking sleep out of his eyes, Harry woke up and observed his surroundings in a dazed stupor. He was lying on a comfortable cotton mattress and looking up at a white, brightly lit room. A wide window was open on the wall to his right, and sun was streaming in through thin, pale yellow curtains.  
  
Harry blinked and tried to move, but his head was still pounding furiously. It was then that Harry realized he was not alone, as a figure clothed in a white uniform bustled out from the hangings of the bed right next to him. Harry turned his head, and the figure instantly gave a small gasp of surprise.  
  
"Mr. Potter, you've awakened! How wonderful, we expected you to be out for at least another day or so," chirped a plump, middle-aged witch wearing a smile on her face. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar.  
  
Harry sat up a little, and groaned as a sharp pain shot through his head.  
  
"Where am I?" he asked tiredly, reaching around for his glasses and finally grabbing them off a bedside table.  
  
"St. Mungo's," the woman answered promptly. “After you fainted, you were transported here. You've been out cold for two days. I've already treated you for minor burns and extreme shock due to the prolonged effects of the Cruciatus Curse. It's a wonder you suffered nothing more serious. I've been to see the rest of your lot, and some of them weren't so fortunate..."  
  
Harry frowned, horror and guilt swimming inside him. "Everyone will be okay, won't they?" he asked apprehensively.  
  
The woman gave him a look, and a short nod. "They'll live," she replied simply.  
  
Harry sighed with relief, looking more closely at the woman. He could now see clearly that she was dressed in a St. Mungo's uniform, and her nametag bore the words  _Healer Donovan._  
  
"Hey, I remember you," he said suddenly, his memory coming back to him. "You were Elle's Healer, right?"  
  
Mrs. Donovan smiled warmly. "Yes, you're quite right my dear," she said kindly. "And speaking of your wife..."  
  
She stepped outside Harry's room into the hallway, and appeared a short while later with Elle, who came in wearing a bandage wrapped around her hand and a large smile on her face. Her eyes lit up when she saw that Harry was awake, and she immediately rushed over to his bedside.  
  
"Harry!" she squealed happily, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly.  
  
Harry grinned, pressing Elle closer to him. After letting go, Elle stood back and Harry frowned at her in concern. "Are you okay?” he asked sharply.  
  
Elle sighed, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I'll survive," she said. "Bellatrix almost killed me, but Professor Lupin stopped the poison before it traveled too far. If it hadn't been for him, I'd be dead." She gave a light smile. "Luckily, it didn't affect my powers either. I'll have to thank him later for saving my life. But look at this..."  
  
She pulled her shirt up a little, and Harry saw a large, ugly scar etched across her stomach. Harry made a face, and Elle laughed slightly, pulling her top back down.  
  
"It'll never be as cool as your scar," she said, shrugging. "But it'll make a neat story to tell the grandkids.”  
  
"Definitely," Harry said, rubbing his forehead and pressing a palm against his own scar. The scar that would never bother him again.

"Have I really been out two whole days?" he asked, somewhat embarrassed.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Elle said, sensing his embarrassment. "I only awoke yesterday. They wanted to keep me overnight for observation, and didn’t want me to receive any visitors. And most of the Order is still in the hospital anyway. I don't know if you've noticed, but Neville's right next door to you. He's still unconscious; he was stabbed badly the other night. But the Healers say he'll be fine," she added hastily, as Harry grew worried. "Ron and Hermione are okay too. They've gone home, but they're pretty concerned about you, so they'll probably be back later.”  
  
“What about Calla?” Harry asked anxiously.  
  
Elle twisted her hands together in nervous excitement. “Mrs. Weasley will be dropping her off soon. I can’t wait to see her; you have no idea how badly I’ve missed her…”  
  
“Trust me,” Harry said assuredly. “I have an idea.”   
  
Healer Donovan sighed loudly from behind them. "With everything you all have been through, it's a miracle nobody's dead," she remarked, checking Harry's pulse and pushing back the hair on his forehead to take his temperature.  
  
Elle smirked at Harry from behind Healer Donovan's back, but Harry focused his attention on the woman.  
  
"You know what happened?" he asked her, astonished.  
  
"Of course my dear boy, everybody knows," she replied calmly. "Would you like to see the Prophet? You're a right little hero."  
  
As she thrust a copy of the Daily Prophet down into his lap, Harry peered down at the front page with interest. There he was, in a photo that was clearly manipulated, grinning heroically and brandishing a sword, while a second image of Voldemort's distorted face lay next to it. A huge, bold headline screamed:  
  
**Harry Potter Defeats the Dark Lord! Wizarding Community Rejoice at Last!**  
  
Harry blinked, a little unsettled on seeing his face right next to a caricature of Voldemort's, but went on to read the article, which included the details of what had occurred at Voldemort's mansion (which were far from accurate), who was involved (Harry was pretty sure no unicorns had been there), and the address for the new and improved Harry Potter Fan Club.  
  
When he finished, he looked back up at Elle. "So it's true, then?" he asked slowly. "Voldemort's really...gone?"  
  
Elle smiled softly. "I knew you could do it," she said, bending down to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.  
  
“ _We_  did it,” Harry said, raising a hand and brushing it softly through her hair.  
  
As Elle broke away, Harry frowned again and straightened up in his bed.  
  
"What happened to Bellatrix Lestrange, and Damien, and the rest of the Death Eaters?" Harry questioned, still trying to get a grasp on the details.  
  
"I think I'll be able to answer that one for you, Harry," spoke a low, calm voice coming from the threshold.  
  
Harry and Elle looked up just as Dumbledore walked slowly into the room, leaning on a walking cane, with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley trailing behind him.  
  
"Calla!" Elle shrieked with happiness and relief, as Mrs. Weasley made her way towards Elle carrying a bundle of blankets.  
  
"Don't worry, I took good care of her," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. She handed the baby over to Elle. "Although, I think she missed being with her mother and father."  
  
"Thank you so much," Elle breathed, holding on to Calla tightly and shaking her lightly up and down. Calla beamed up at her, gurgling happily. Elle laughed.  
  
"I swear on my life that I will never leave you again," she whispered, closing her eyes and pressing the infant even closer to her. "I'm never letting you out of my sight."  
  
"I think that's going a little overboard," Ron teased, but Elle ignored him. Hermione beamed at Harry from behind Ron's back.  
  
"I'm so glad you're awake," she said, walking over to his bedside.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said, eyeing Hermione and waiting patiently for his turn at being reunited with his daughter. "I see they patched up your leg okay," he observed.  
  
"Yup," Hermione grinned. "Good as new."  
  
"Professor..." Harry suddenly said, now turning his gaze from Hermione to Dumbledore. "What...what happened to you?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled gently. "Nothing that should cause any lasting damage, thankfully," he said, adjusting the half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose. "It was partially my fault, seeing as how my reflexes and my mind are not what they used to be. I managed to detain Voldemort long enough for your wife and Mr. Malfoy to escape the dungeons. Alastor was kind enough to revive me once he came across my body."  
  
Harry was surprised. That didn't sound like Dumbledore at all.  
  
"But...why?" he asked slowly. "You risked your life to hold him off, when you could have destroyed him?”  
  
Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "Harry, I am afraid you place too much value on my abilities," he said quietly. "Besides, destroying Voldemort was never up to me, you and I both know that. You fulfilled the prophecy.”   
  
He peered closely at Harry, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly. "And I must say, I've never been more impressed. If it weren't for the quick thinking and incredible skill each one of you displayed that night, I don't believe many of us would have survived.”  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "It seems so surreal," he murmured quietly. "Like none of it really happened. Like he's still out there somewhere, alive, waiting to attack me when I least expect it."  
  
"You ought to stop being so paranoid," said Ginny, smiling wryly. "Get it through your thick head, will you? Voldemort's dead. You killed him. Get over it."  
  
Ginny shook her long red hair out of her eyes. "Now if you all don't mind, I'm going to have a look around...maybe stop in and see how Draco is doing," she added, smirking at Ron devilishly.  
  
Ron scowled and bawled his hands into fists, but Ginny had already pranced out of the room.  
  
"I can't believe she actually cares what happens to that foul, arrogant little..." Ron started, turning around as if he were about to go after her.  
  
"Oh, don't be so hard on your sister," Mr. Weasley interrupted, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder to stop him from moving. "I think right now we all deserve a break."  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, nodding. "And from what I heard, Miss Weasley helped save a lot of lives the other night, with the aid of your invisibility cloak, Harry. She managed to transport Mister Longbottom, Mister Corner, and Miss Anderson across that dreadful ocean after they had all been seriously injured, and she managed it without being seen."  
  
Elle looked up, holding tightly onto Calla. "Is Ally okay?" she asked worriedly. "And what about Brian?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "They will be alright. And what about you, my dear? How are you feeling?"  
  
"I'm fine," Elle replied, shifting Calla from one arm to the other. She stared down at the baby and smiled. “Better than fine.”  
  
Dumbledore bowed his head. "I blame myself for the incident that happened with Mister Malfoy's sword. It seems that in my enthusiasm to have such weapons in our possession, I neglected to think what would happen if they ever fell into the wrong hands.”  
  
Elle shook her head. "It's my fault," she insisted. "If it weren't for my stupid powers, the swords would have helped us more." She sighed. "I'm never using my powers again," she vowed in determination, her eyes narrowing. "Not after they've caused so much pain and destruction. I don't even deserve to have them at all."  
  
Harry stayed silent, knowing that it was no use arguing with her about her powers just yet.  
  
"Sir," he said, struggling to stay on topic. "What happened to Voldemort's Death Eaters, and the rest of his army?"  
  
"Forgive me," Dumbledore said. "As it turns out, when you were leading the Order out of the mansion, I opted instead to go after the fleeing Death Eaters. I stunned and tied up a few just in time. The ones that were already unconscious, I bound together and zapped them all off to the Ministry of Magic, where they were shortly after sentenced to life in Azkaban...including Bellatrix and Damien. I took a Portkey there myself just before the mansion caved in, and explained to the Ministry what had occurred in Voldemort's lair. The Dementors, ever since the defeat of their Master, are back to taking orders from the Ministry, and have returned to their posts guarding the Azkaban cells...being kept under a watchful eye at all times, I might add."  
  
There was a pause as the room was filled with thoughtful silence. Elle, with Calla, went to go sit down on the edge of Harry's bed, accidentally sitting on Harry's leg. Harry let out an "ouch!" of protest, but Elle didn't move.  
  
Ron and Hermione shared a look. "What happens if they break out again?" Hermione asked.  
  
Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders. "It's a likely possibility," he said seriously. He turned towards Harry and Elle. "If Voldemort's most faithful followers remain alive, there will always be danger.”  
  
Harry and Elle swapped a glance, and surprisingly, both grinned.  
  
"Whatever," they replied in unison.  
  
Harry reached out and touched Elle's free hand, pulling her closer towards him. Elle smiled, and leaned in to kiss him once more.  
  
Hermione and Ron both grinned at each other. They were happy for Harry. After all these years of worrying about Voldemort and dwelling over the prophecy; of misery and sorrow, of the death of numerous family members and loved ones- he was finally free. Looking at Harry now, they decided that they had never seen their best friend so happy in all his life. The world, as of now, was a perfect place.  
  
"Sir," Hermione said suddenly, as Elle and Harry broke apart, since Calla had begun to whine. "That night, before Harry killed Voldemort, four of us touched our swords together and something...odd happened."  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I see," he said slowly. "A sort of...reaction, shall we say?"  
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "It was weird. Sparks flew out of each one, and Harry's sword let out that ring of fire, while mine created this sort of shield, and Hermione's produced these steel things to shoot out of the ground."  
  
"Did you know that was going to happen?" Elle asked Dumbledore, bouncing Calla lightly on her lap.  
  
"I was not aware of the exact effects the swords would have once joined," he admitted. "But I did have a suspicion that something like this would happen. Who figured out that it would be best to try and unite the swords?"  
  
"Do you even have to ask?" Harry said, with a sly grin. "Hermione did, of course!"  
  
Hermione blushed.  
  
"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore lightly. "Miss Granger you are, and always will be, the brightest young witch of your age.”  
  
"And the most beautiful," Ron whispered to her, taking her hand. Hermione was now so red that she seemed to be burning up.  
  
"Thank you," she said quietly, embarrassed.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley beamed at the two of them. Harry reached to take Calla from Elle, but Elle quickly stopped him.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked, holding protectively on to the child.  
  
"Come on, Elle," he said in exasperation. "You've been holding her this whole time! I have a right to see my daughter too."  
  
"Oh," she replied, relaxing. "Fair enough." She looked down at Calla. "Ready to let your dad have his turn at showering you with affection?" she murmured, giving Calla one last smile before placing the baby in Harry's arms.  
  
"Thanks," he said, holding his child and grinning as the baby squirmed happily in his arms.  
  
Mr. Weasley sighed. "I'm afraid we must be getting back to the Burrow," he said, glancing at his watch. "Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie are waiting for us. I told them I'd come back and let them know how Harry was doing."  
  
"I can go back and tell them myself," Harry suggested.  
  
"Absolutely not," said Healer Donovan, who had left the room to check on Neville and had just bustled back in.  
  
"Why not?" asked Harry. "I'm all better now, and I want to get out of here!"  
  
"You'll be out soon enough," assured Healer Donovan. "Just one more night, until I can be certain you're well enough to leave."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him.  
  
"It's no use arguing, Harry," he said calmly. "You'll be out in no time, free to enjoy your life at home with your beautiful wife and daughter."  
  
Harry sighed. "All right," he grumbled.  
  
Ellen stuck out her lower lip in mock imitation of him, and Harry shoved her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smiled at them.  
  
"We'll see you soon, I expect," Mrs. Weasley said to them, before her husband took her hand and led her from the room.  
  
Harry looked at Dumbledore. "When will we be seeing them?" he asked curiously.  
  
"I've decided to hold one final Order meeting," he said with a small smile. "The Minister will be there. I assume he wishes to bestow upon you an Order of Merlin, First Class."  
  
Harry blinked. "Me?" he said, surprised. He had not been expecting this. Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Think of it as a celebration," he added. "Celebrating our victory against the most evil wizard who ever lived." He bowed to the five of them. "Good day to you all," he said, his eyes sparkling, and walked out of the room. He looked as if he were hardly in need of his walking cane.  
  
Healer Donovan walked out after him to give them some privacy. Ron, Hermione, Elle, and Harry all looked at each other. Then Elle let out an unexpected squeal, and started bouncing up and down on Harry's hospital bed.Harry winced as she hit his leg again, and Ron frowned at her.  
  
"Have you gone mad?" he asked, bewildered.  
  
"I just can't believe this!" Elle said, grinning widely. "Voldemort's actually gone! And everybody's going to be okay!"  
  
Harry laughed. As always, Elle's good mood was very infectious.  
  
"Yeah," he murmured. "He's gone."  
  
"For goodness sake," Hermione said, laughing at Elle and pretending to lecture. "Act your age."  
  
Elle smiled and stopped bouncing. "I am," she said softly.  
  
Harry's grin faded slightly. "I thought I almost lost you the other night," he said in a serious voice. "It was the scariest moment of my life, watching you get stabbed by that sword. I thought you were going to die."  
  
Elle gazed back at him, looking, surprisingly, just as serious. "How do you think it felt for me watching you get tortured by Voldemort?" she asked.  
  
Harry shook his head. "You shouldn't have offered to sacrifice yourself for me," he argued.  
  
"I had to," Elle said. "You should know by now that I would do anything for you."  
  
Harry smiled. "I love you," he said.  
  
Elle smiled as well. "I love you too," she replied.  
  
Calla let out a restless squeal, and Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.  
  
"If your daughter could talk, I bet she'd say, 'I'm going to puke from all this love in the room'," Ron remarked.  
  
They all laughed, and for a long time, neither of them could stop.

* * *

A week later at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry stood still, holding his certificate for his Order of Merlin, First Class, and staring at it in awe. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever receive one of these, and yet it here it was, in his hands. It should have gone to all of them, not just him, he thought bitterly.   
  
After members of the Ministry, including the Minister himself, left the premises, the celebration Dumbledore promised was in full swing. Grimmauld Place had never felt so festive, and for once, Harry didn't feel miserable being back here. The house still brought back strong memories of Sirius, but today evoked a different emotion in Harry. He had a feeling that if Sirius were here today, he would be enjoying himself, instead of moping over the fact that he was stuck inside.  
  
"Hey, you," Elle said from behind him, dressed in dark jeans and a white top, holding two bottles of butterbeer in one hand and pushing a small, light pink stroller with her other hand. "Still gloating over your Order of Merlin, are you?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Harry said good-naturedly, putting it aside. He accepted the butterbeer and took a sip, looking around the room as he did so. There was some music, most likely the Weird Sisters, drifting through the room, but nobody was dancing. They were all too busy talking and laughing, checking out each other's injuries and retelling the tale of their grand adventure at Voldemort's hideout.  
  
Elle drained her bottle and looked around also. "Well," she observed. "Things are almost back to normal." Her forehead creased. "Not that anything around here ever  _is_  normal."  
  
"I guess," Harry said. "Where did you go?"  
  
"To change Calla's diaper," Elle answered casually. "I'm pretty good at it now. But next time it's your turn, okay?"  
  
"Whatever you say," Harry said, grinning. Elle smacked her lips and handed Harry her empty bottle.  
  
"I'm going to go talk to Lupin," she said, smoothing down her hair. "You know, to thank him for the other night."  
  
"Alright," Harry said, who had just spotted Ron and Hermione huddled together in a corner. "I'll take Calla while you go."  
  
As Elle walked off, Harry pushed the stroller over to where Ron and Hermione were standing.  
  
"Hey, guys," he greeted, trying to sound cool, even though he looked ridiculous pushing a pink stroller. He noted how much it easier it was to hold a sword than to push a stroller. Why had Elle insisted on buying  _pink_?  
  
"Oh, hi!" Hermione said excitedly. She bent down to pick Calla up from her stroller. "Hello Calla," she said brightly to the small baby, who smiled toothlessly back at her, her green eyes wide and happy. "Wow, I can't believe how big she's getting already!"  
  
"I know," Harry said, sounding amused as he observed his child. "She’s starting to lift her head and lay on her stomach, it’s incredible. In a couple of months, she'll be crawling!"  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Good luck with that," he said.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Ah well, I figure it's about time for her to start getting into some real trouble. Maybe I can even teach her to stick gum into Elle's hair."  
  
Hermione laughed. "Elle would kill you," she said. "And I can't say I'd blame her." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she said suddenly. "Ron and I picked a date for the wedding."  
  
"Really?" Harry asked. "When is it?"  
  
"At the end of December," Ron replied. "We figured everyone would be cured by then.”  
  
"That's great, you guys," Harry said, and he meant it. He couldn’t wait to see his best friends get married.   
  
"Hopefully," Hermione said. "Oh and look, Ron finally got around to getting me a wedding ring." She held out her hand.  
  
"Finally?" Harry laughed. "Well, I like it."  
  
"Thank you," Hermione replied, scanning the room. "Where's Elle?"  
  
Elle, who had just finished speaking with Lupin, was turning around to head back towards her friends when a tall, stern woman blocked her path. Elle stopped, blinking up at Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Hello Professor," she said cautiously. She never knew whether McGonagall was about to shout at her, or praise her. She settled for putting on a politely curious expression. "How are you?"  
  
Much to her surprise, McGonagall smiled. "Hello," she said calmly. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much. I was wondering if I might use this chance to give you a little bit of advice, Elle?"  
  
Elle frowned in confusion. "Sure," she said. "About what?"  
  
McGonagall sighed. "Elle, ever since you've graduated from Hogwarts, you've married, had a child, and been captured by Voldemort."  
  
Elle could feel her face heating up. This was going to be another lecture on everything she had done wrong.  
  
"Yes," she started hesitantly. "Um, I can explain..."  
  
"I am not asking you to explain," McGonagall interrupted. "I am only telling you, dear girl, to take a break! You haven't had a spare moment to relax in over a year! Won't you please give it a rest, for these next few months at least, before you break down completely? Or, better yet, before I break down completely?"  
  
Elle smiled. "Well, I can try," she said, even though having a baby to take care of clearly prevented that. "But don't worry about me. I'll be alright, I promise."   
  
She grasped McGonagall’s hands in hers. “Thank you, so much, for caring about us,” she whispered to her former professor.   
  
Minerva McGonagall nodded, and to Elle’s amazement, blinked back a tear.   
  
As McGonagall walked away, Elle sighed and once more attempted to make her way toward Ron, Hermione, and Harry. But she was stopped in her tracks yet again, this time by Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Hey!" she said, staring closely at him. "I was wondering if you were here or not."  
  
Draco shrugged. "I decided I'd come and see what all the fuss was about," he said moodily. "Plus, I heard there was free liquor. Although I must admit, this does beat the dungeon."  
  
Elle gave him a little half-smile. "Cheer up!" she said brightly. "Voldemort's dead! Like, for real this time. Why are you still so depressed?"  
  
Draco stared at her for a moment, before saying quietly, "I'm leaving."  
  
Elle was confused. "You mean you're leaving the party?"  
  
"No," he said, his eyes darting around quickly, before settling back on Elle. "What I mean is, I'm leaving the country. For good."  
  
Elle stared at him, before her eyes widened in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed. "Why? Where are you going to go?"  
  
Draco shrugged again. "I'm not really sure," he admitted. "I just need to get away from here...clear my head for a bit. The only reason I stayed for so long is because of the Order, but now that I'm no longer needed, I figured, why not get out of here and have an adventure? Explore the world? You and Harry don’t need a Secret Keeper anymore. Face it, nobody really wants me here anyway."  
  
"That's not true!" Elle objected automatically. Draco raised his eyebrows. Elle sighed.  
  
"Okay, so maybe it is," she said. "But what about Ginny?"  
  
Draco swallowed, his usual expression of arrogance and superiority gone. "I haven't told her yet," he said quietly. "But I'm planning on it."  
  
Elle shook her head sadly. "I'll miss you, you know," she said, without knowing why. "I mean, I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I was starting to grow a little fond of your annoying, self-centered personality."  
  
Draco smirked. "Of course you were," he said. "Just don't let your husband hear you say that. He'd probably punch me."  
  
"Nah," Elle replied. "He'd punch you no matter what I said."  
  
They both laughed. Then Elle gave him a suspicious look.  
  
“Was there something else you wanted to tell me?” she asked.  
  
“There was,” Draco said, rummaging in his pocket and producing a sheet of parchment with an address scrawled onto it. He handed it to Elle, and she stared at it with narrowed eyes.  
  
“What’s this?”  
  
Draco sighed. “Ginny gave it to me, to give to you. Supposedly it’s the best daycare for witches and wizards in the world, and it’s not too far from here.”  
  
“A daycare?” Elle asked hesitantly, gazing at the address.  
  
“Take it from me,” Draco told her seriously. “Don’t waste your life away. Sure, being a parent is great and all, but sometimes you have to accomplish things for yourself. I know you probably never want to let your daughter out of your sight again, but sending her to daycare won’t hurt. It could be the best thing for her.”  
  
Elle smiled and folded up the parchment, placing it carefully inside her pocket. Maybe becoming an Auror wasn’t out of the question after all.  
  
“Thanks Draco,” she said sincerely. “I’ll definitely consider it. I have to tell you something, though."  
  
Draco groaned. "Please don't tell me you have another picture of Calla," he said. "I already admitted she was cute, and said she was the perfect mix of you and Potter like a million times, what more do you want from me?"  
  
Elle gave a wry smile. "It's not a picture," she admitted. "Although she does have the same expression you do in the mornings, sort of like a half sneer, which suggests to me that she's a very ironic baby."   
  
They both laughed.   
  
"Seriously, though," Elle continued. "You know how you told me once that I was a free spirit?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Elle grinned. “I think you’re one too.”  
  
Draco grinned back. Elle couldn’t believe it- the only person he had ever smiled at before was Ginny.  
  
“You’re sure this daycare isn’t run by any of your Death Eater relatives?” Elle asked, half joking, half serious.  
  
“Positive,” Draco replied. “Though if your daughter ever gets out of line, I can send you one of their addresses as well.”  
  
"So that's it, then? You're just going to take off now?"  
  
"Pretty much," Draco said, looking around.  
  
Elle sighed. "Can you just answer me one thing?”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “I knew I was going to regret this…”  
  
“Are you in love with Ginny?”  
  
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Well...maybe a small part of me...a very small part...has a slight inkling of affection for her..."  
  
Elle smiled in satisfaction. "Aha! He finally admits it!"  
  
Draco glared at her, and Elle's expression became serious again.  
  
"Listen," she said calmly. "Ginny is in love with you too, I can tell. I have no idea why, but she is. So, if anyone deserves to know that you’re leaving, it's her." She gave him an encouraging grin. "And just make sure Ron, Harry, or any of her other brothers don't see you talking to her, okay?"  
  
Draco sighed. "I appreciate your brutal honesty," he said solemnly.  
  
Elle winked. "That's what I'm here for," she remarked. "Now go!"  
  
She watched him retreat, his white-blond head disappearing into the crowd, when a voice from behind her said, "Since when did Malfoy become so sensitive?"  
  
Elle closed her eyes briefly, and turned around to face Parvati. "What do you want?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.  
  
Parvati ignored her question. "What are you even doing here?" she asked nastily, walking closer to Elle with her hands on her hips. "I thought you quit."  
  
Elle didn't move. Then, she sighed.

"Parvati, is this going to go on forever?" she blurted out.  
  
Parvati stared at her, shocked. "What?" she asked.  
  
Elle chewed on her lip, trying her best to drown out the music filling the room.  
  
"I mean, we keep fighting with each other and saying horrible things, and it's all complete nonsense. Do we really plan to keep doing this every time we meet? We’ve been taking the same classes at Hogwarts, we attended the same meetings and, well…why do we keep thinking one of us is better than the other?”  
  
Parvati said nothing and just stood there, as if she were thinking something over. Elle took a deep breath and let it out.  
  
"Come on, we're adults now," she reasoned. “And we've been through a lot together." She let out a little laugh. "I saved you from drowning the other night, admit it!"  
  
Parvati scowled. "Nobody asked you to," she pouted.  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. You would've been begging me to help you if you has been able to breathe properly.” She shook her head. "But you know what?" she admitted grudgingly. "I probably would have saved you no matter what. And I may be wrong, but I think you'd do the same for me."   
  
Parvati's lips tightened. Then, she hesitated. "Look...as much as it pains me to say this...you're kind of right."  
  
Elle raised an eyebrow.  _Was she hearing correctly?_  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Parvati looked her in the eyes. "We are old enough now," she said, with a slight grimace. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "And even though we hate each other...I guess we are, technically, on the same side," she concluded.  
  
Elle smiled to herself. So, there  _was_  a human being inside Parvati after all.

"Great. So, all that's left is to apologize to each other, right?"  
  
Parvati looked horrorstruck.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll go first," said Elle. She straightened up. "Parvati, I'm sorry for all the mean things I said to you, and even though I still hate you, I want to call a truce." She grinned. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"  
  
Parvati sighed, and gave Elle a reluctant stare. "I'm sorry for everything I've done and said to you, and for, well, being a bitch," she said, with a straight face.  
  
"You forgot to mention the part about kissing my husband," Elle told her bluntly.  
  
Parvati rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry for kissing Harry back in seventh year, when you two were still only boyfriend and girlfriend, and which, if I might add, was only for about two bloody seconds," she said dully. "A moment that I never want to relive, if that makes you feel better."   
  
"Much better," Elle said, and she held out her hand. Parvati shook it, and both dropped their hands extremely quickly.  
  
There was a short, awkward pause.  
  
"So..." Parvati started, looking around shiftily. "We're not going to become friends now or anything, are we?"  
  
"Of course not," Elle said, and without meaning to, she began to laugh. They had almost died the other night, and yet it was so hard for the two of them to accept peace.   
  
"Good," Parvati said in relief, her lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. It was  _almost_  a smile. "Well...see you around."  
  
Elle shook her head as Parvati left, and then finally managed to make her way over to her husband and daughter. She caught a glimpse of Draco talking quietly in a corner with Ginny, and as she walked away, thought she heard an angry sob ring out from their reluctant farewells.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Harry and Elle were lying peacefully next to each other in their bed at home, enjoying the precious moment of tranquil silence they so infrequently received and wordlessly conveying their thoughts to one another. Calla had been put to bed a while ago, so there was nothing more to do than just relax and enjoy each other's company.  
  
"So," Harry said, breaking the silence. Elle looked up at him sleepily, and smiled.  
  
"So what?" she asked softly.  
  
Harry grinned. "You're so quiet," he teased. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
Elle shrugged. "I've just been...thinking," she said slowly.  
  
"Let me guess. You're worried about how many more days in a row my picture's going to be on the cover of the Daily Prophet. I've told them a million times that I do not give any permission whatsoever for a fan club..."  
  
"No, not about that," Elle said, beginning to laugh. "It's about Calla."  
  
Harry wiggled his eyebrows. "You've finally decided we should keep her?" he guessed. Elle shoved him with her foot.  
  
"You are so weird!" she said. "No... remember what we were talking about before all this happened? About our daughter's...special abilities?"  
  
Harry frowned. "Yeah," he said. "What about them?"  
  
Elle sighed. "This might be wrong," she admitted. "But I was going through my dad's old books the other day, and I found some written instructions for a spell."  
  
Harry sat up in bed, now curious. "What kind of spell?" he asked suspiciously, wondering how this related to Calla.  
  
Elle looked him in the eye. "The spell my parents put on me when I was a child," she said quietly. "The spell that gave me those powers when I turned seventeen."  
  
Harry thought back, a memory of Dumbledore talking to Elle at Grimmauld Place coming back to him.  
  
"You want to perform the spell on Calla?" he asked.  
  
“I was thinking about it. I wanted to know your thoughts. Do you think it's a good idea?"  
  
Harry pondered for a moment. "It would be a big responsibility for her," he said after a moment. "And it could be dangerous in a lot of ways. Remember those nightmares you kept having? And what happens if somebody finds out about her powers, and tries to hurt her?"  
  
Elle shook her head. "I know it could be dangerous," she said. "But it could also be good. When her power reveals itself, it could protect her, especially if something happens to us and we're not around. And about the nightmares and panic attacks, well...I finally figured out what they meant. This whole time, I've been dreaming about the attack at Voldemort's hideout. I doubt I'll be having nightmares anymore, but think about it. I never realized what they were about until they happened, because my power isn't fortune telling. If Calla can see the future...then maybe, she'll be able to prevent bad things from happening to her.”  
  
Harry wasn't so sure about this. "You really think her power is, uh, seeing the future then?" he asked. He was a little sketchy on the whole Professor Trelawney/Inner Eye thing.  
  
Elle shrugged. "I'm not sure," she responded slowly. "But it would make sense. She knew the exact spot where Hedwig was going to turn up moments before she landed. She has this peculiar, intuitive sense about her. How else could you explain that?"  
  
Harry still wasn't positive. "She could hate us for this, you know," he told Elle.  
  
She gave a heavy sigh. "I know," she said. "I thought I hated my parents at first. But I don't anymore. They did it for my own good. I care about Calla more than anything in the entire world, and if putting this spell on her means she'll be able to protect herself later in life then, well, I'm willing to go through with it."  
  
Harry swallowed. "Okay," he said finally, after a long time of thinking it through carefully. "We'll do it tomorrow."  
  
Elle smiled a small, sad smile. "I wonder what my mom and dad would think about me putting this spell on their grandchild.” She sighed. “I wish they could teach me how to be a good parent.”   
  
Harry glanced to their bedside cabinet, where three pictures stood in their frames. One was of Elle's parents, another was of Harry's parents, and in the middle stood a photograph of Harry and Elle themselves, holding Calla. Harry squinted at the picture of Elle's parents. The blonde woman smiling at him from inside the frame was identical to Elle.  
  
Harry didn't quite know what to say.  
  
"Elle..." he asked suddenly. "What exactly happened the night your parents died? I mean, I know how they were killed and everything, but...it must have felt horrible."  
  
Elle nodded slowly. "It was," she whispered. "I'll never forget that day. I came home from a night out with Ally and Brian, and as I stepped out of the car I saw a bunch of police swarming around. They wouldn't even let me in the house to grab my belongings. Somebody just came up to me, and told me that my mother and father had been murdered, and then I took off. I didn't even stay to hear the rest of the details...I just ran. And then Dumbledore appeared and found me sitting in the woods, crying. Somehow he made me calm down to listen to exactly what happened, and said I'd be moving to London and going to Hogwarts."  
  
Elle shook her head. "He gave me a choice to stay, but I chose to leave. I thought my life was over," she said. "But now I realize that it might have been the best thing that ever happened to me. The death of my parents brought me to you."  
  
"Wow," Harry said slowly.  
  
Elle gave Harry a watery smile. "Just be glad you were only a baby when your parents died," she said in a low voice. "Not that it makes it better, of course, but at least you don't remember much."  
  
"I wish I  _could_  remember everything," Harry admitted. "I barely have any memories of my parents at all...not even bad ones."  
  
Elle leaned on him, tracing his bare chest with the tip of her finger.  
  
"Let's not do this to Calla," she said firmly. "Let's stay alive for her, okay? I want us to be around when she grows up...I want to see her graduate from Hogwarts, and get married, and all of that...something our parents never achieved."  
  
"We can do it," Harry assured her. "We can stay alive. But just promise me one thing, okay?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't start talking about Calla getting married. I'm already dreading the day when she brings home her first date."

* * *

On the very last day of December, the day of Ron and Hermione's wedding, the atmosphere could not have been more perfect. The weather was an ideal combination of sunlight and snow, and the subtle scent of roses perfumed the air. The ceremony had been beautiful, and everyone in attendance could tell that the bride and groom were very happy that this day had finally come. Ron and Hermione had both said their vows with heartfelt passion, and Elle could feel her eyes tearing up as she watched them share their first kiss as husband and wife.  
  
Elle quickly wiped her eyes on the sleeves of her pale pink bridesmaid's dress, being careful not to let anyone see that she was crying. Harry grinned from across the way, watching his two best friends walk cheerfully back down the aisle, laughing and unable to stop kissing each other.  
  
With a sigh, he went over to Elle and took her hand, both following Ron and Hermione as all the guests stood up.  
  
"Were you actually crying?" Harry murmured to her, a glint in his eyes.  
  
"No," Elle said, sniffing slightly. "The sun was in my eyes."  
  
Harry sighed. "You're such a sap," he told her hopelessly.  
  
The reception was held right near the ceremony site, and it too was outdoors. The guests mingled around, enjoying the food and soft music, while the newlyweds danced to a romantic ballad in the center of the dance floor. Harry and Elle barely had time to congratulate them before Hermione had pulled Ron away to begin dancing. Ron did not object; he could hardly take his eyes off Hermione, who looked radiant in a thin white dress covered in pearly lace, and a long veil perched on top of her flowing, light brown hair.  
  
The guests, which included everyone from the Order, as well as Ally and Brian, didn't seem able to stop admiring the two. Mrs. Weasley, who had gone through about twenty handkerchiefs already, looked as if she had turned into a human hosepipe.  
  
Besides Ginny (who had become noticeably more miserable ever since Draco had left), everyone seemed to be in a lighthearted mood. Elle frowned, wondering where Draco was now, what he had said to Ginny, and more importantly, how Ginny was feeling about it.  
  
"Elle!" somebody called from afar, jerking her out of her thoughts.  
  
Elle turned around. "Ally!" she exclaimed, just as the blonde girl made her way through the crowd. They hugged tightly. "I've barely had a chance to talk to you! How have you been?"  
  
After assuring her that they were alright, Ally and Brian had returned to California following the attack at the mansion. They were in town for Ron and Hermione’s wedding.  
  
Ally beamed. "I’ve been great! California still isn’t the same without you, though.”  
  
Elle laughed. "I do miss it," she said. "But I guess I have to finally face facts- London is home now.” She grew suddenly serious. “Listen Ally, I don’t think I ever thanked you for helping us fight Voldemort. If anything happened to you or Brian, I would never be able to forgive myself. You guys were so brave.”  
  
Ally laughed. "Oh, don't worry about it," she said dismissively. "I can be tough too, remember? And I had Brian to keep me company," she added, almost as an afterthought. She paused, squinting up at Elle in the setting sunlight. "Do you think Brian's cute?" she asked suddenly.  
  
Elle laughed again. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "He's just...Brian. I've never really thought of him that way." She wrinkled her nose. "Why, do you like him?"  
  
Ally looked thoughtful. "Well, I  _have_  known him since forever," she said carelessly. "And I guess he  _has_  been extra sweet to me lately..."  
  
Elle couldn't believe this. So, her two childhood friends had finally realized they had feelings for each other.  
  
"Hmm," she said. "You and Brian, together, as a couple. This could turn out to be brilliant, or completely catastrophic."  
  
"Who knows? Maybe both!" Ally remarked cheerfully. "I'm going for it. Besides, what better place to hook up than at a wedding?"  
  
Elle rolled her eyes. "Have a ball," she teased.  
  
Ally sighed dramatically, turning her head to watch Ron and Hermione. "It is terribly romantic though, isn't it?" she observed. "Those two really seem like they're in love."  
  
"They are," Elle said, smiling.  
  
Ally shook her head. "I can't believe this. First you and Harry get married, and now Ron and Hermione." She shuddered. "Why in the world would you guys want to get married so young, anyway?"  
  
Elle shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I guess I can't really explain it."  
  
Ally’s eyes lit up. "Hey, where's little Calla? I want to play with her."  
  
Elle hesitated. Ever since she and Harry had performed the spell, the spell that would allow Calla to receive her full powers when she turned seventeen, Elle had been sort of uneasy whenever anyone wanted to see her daughter. Suppose one of them noticed that there was something different about Calla, and found out about the spell? She didn’t want anyone telling her that it was wrong, or that she would regret doing it. She knew she had done the right thing, but still thought it was best if the matter stayed private. The only people her and Harry had told were Ron and Hermione, who assured them that it was their decision, and no one else's, that mattered. Elle remembered how much Dumbledore had helped explain her powers to her on her 17th birthday, and wanted Calla to have someone to reach out to in case anything happened to her or Harry.   
  
But that was seven months ago, and Calla was no longer the delicate newborn she once was. She was growing more and more every day. Calla now slept through the night, imitated every sound she heard, and, unfortunately, had begun teething. Every day was an adventure, but it was one Harry and Elle wouldn’t miss for the world.  
  
Ally sensed her friend's uneasiness and gave her a reassuring grin.  
  
"Don't worry," Ally said quickly. "I'll be really careful with her, I promise. Besides, I want Brian to see what a kind, child-loving person I am."  
  
Elle frowned. "So you're using my daughter to attract a guy?"  
  
"Of course not," Ally grinned. Elle bit her lip.  
  
"Alright," she said grudgingly. "But don't keep her from me for too long. And if she starts to cry, bring her straight back, okay?"  
  
"Like I want to hold a crying baby," Ally replied sarcastically. "Nah, I only like her when she's happy."   
  
Elle couldn't help laughing. Keeping an eye on Ally while she played with Calla wouldn't hurt, she decided.  
  
"Come on, Harry's watching her," she said, leading Ally over to where her husband was standing.  
  
Ron and Hermione had finally taken a break from dancing and were standing next to him, both of their cheeks tinged with pink and smiling at those who had stopped to give their congratulations. Elle waited till she deposited Calla safely into Ally's arms before turning towards the two of them.  
  
"I'm so happy for you two," she said, throwing her arms first around Hermione, and then Ron. Harry handed Elle a glass of champagne, and she raised it.  
  
"To the new Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!" she said, giggling. They all laughed appreciatively and clinked glasses, tilting their heads back to take a sip.  
  
"Thanks for the toast," Ron said, after he was done drinking.  
  
"No problem," said Elle. "How does it feel to be a married man?"  
  
"Horrible," said Ron, gazing at Hermione again. “I mean, wonderful!”  
  
Hermione grinned. "Yeah, right," she said. "If I catch you and Harry complaining together about how bossy your wives are, then I'll remind you of this."  
  
They all laughed again. Then Harry looked up. "You know, she's kind of right," he told Ron. "We're married to two of the bossiest girls around."  
  
Elle poked him in the arm. "You'll get used to it," she teased.  
  
Harry grinned. The sky overhead was just starting to get dark, but nobody was close to leaving. As twilight settled among them, about a hundred fairy lights glittered into life, and stars winked at them from above.  
  
A soft, slow song began to play, and the melody floated over to them across the grounds. Order members dressed to their best in suits, gowns, and dress robes all began to pair off, waltzing sweetly over the specially set-up dance floor. Lupin and Tonks were dancing closely together, as well as Neville and Hannah, Lavender and Dean, and Michael and Cho. Even Seamus had asked Ginny, jerking her out of her miserable state, and Dumbledore was leading Professor McGonagall out onto the dance floor.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron.

"Would it be too much to ask my husband to dance at least one more time?" she requested.  
  
Ron grinned. "Sure," he replied. "As long as we can make a quick exit as soon as the song ends."  
  
Elle had to laugh. "Don't worry guys," she said. "You did the same for us. Just let Harry and I know when you two are leaving to shack up with each other, and we'll take care of everything.”  
  
"Thanks," said Ron. He grabbed Hermione's waist. "Now come on!" he commanded, practically pulling her out into the midst of dancing couples.  
  
Elle sighed as she watched them go, sitting down on a rickety lawn chair and fiddling with her bracelets.  
  
Harry looked around. Everybody was out of his or her seat either dancing or eating, and Calla was perfectly fine as Ally and Brian looked after her, the two of them standing extremely close.  
  
Turning back to Elle, Harry cracked a grin and held out his hand. Elle looked up at him, mildly surprised.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair.  
  
"Sweeping you off your feet," he responded, with a perfectly straight face.  
  
Elle laughed, and took his hand.  
  
Together, the two of them wandered off to the far side of the dance floor. Harry pulled Elle close, and she rested her head on his shoulder, perfectly content. This dance was very different from the one they had shared at the Halloween Ball so long ago. That first dance had been fraught with romantic, exhilarating tension. Now, three years later, they had seen each other at their best and worst, and this dance was nothing more than the comfortable swaying of two entwined souls.  
  
"You know," Harry said quietly, after a few seconds of slow dancing. "I think we should spend the new year just relaxing. Nothing crazy, no saving the world, or defeating evil wizards...just relaxing."  
  
"Mmm," Elle sighed. “Relaxation sounds nice. That, and maybe…Auror training?”  
  
Harry paused for a moment. “Really?” he asked disbelievingly. “You’ve finally agreed to send Calla to daycare?”  
  
Elle sighed. “I’m not entirely comfortable with it,” she admitted. “But Malfoy was right. We owe it to ourselves, Harry. Calla will be fine, and it’s about time she began socializing with other babies.”  
  
Harry grinned. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll have no trouble socializing.”  
  
Elle laughed. “Besides Auror training, think of all the other stuff we still have to go through…teaching Calla how to walk…how to potty-train…her first word…”  
  
“Which will be ‘dada’.”  
  
“Um, no. It’s going to be ‘mama’.”  
  
Harry sighed. “Okay,” he said good-naturedly. “I get it. No relaxation.”  
  
Elle shook her head. "I'm looking forward to it," she smiled.  
  
She took her head off Harry's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck instead, staring into his eyes. Harry stared back at her.  
  
"You really changed my life a lot," he said to her suddenly, his mind wandering.  
  
Elle's eyebrows crinkled. "What do you mean?" she asked.  
  
"Imagine," Harry said. "If you hadn't come to Hogwarts, things would have been completely different."  
  
"You're right," Elle agreed jokingly. "Sixth Year for you would have probably sucked, you would have become obsessed with Malfoy, Snape would have probably ended up turning traitor and done something horrible to Dumbledore, and you'd probably end up dating Ginny."  
  
Harry laughed. "Yeah," he said. "Like that could ever happen."  
  
Elle grinned. "But Ron and Hermione would've still gotten together."  
  
"Definitely,” Harry replied. "That's obvious in any scenario. But seriously Elle, without you, I probably wouldn't even be here right now. I'd be alone, depressed, and most likely dead."  
  
"Aw," Elle said sarcastically. "What's next? A serenade? A shrine?"  
  
Harry stepped on Elle's foot. "No," he said. "But I must admit, you did change my life a lot. You're the girl that changed everything."  
  
Elle looked at him in disbelief. "That's a horrible title," she said.  
  
Harry laughed and gazed around. "I can't believe this," he whispered to Elle. "Everything's just so...perfect. Voldemort's gone, Ron and Hermione are together, we're together, and everybody's okay...and hey, even Malfoy's gone."  
  
It was Elle's turn to step on his foot. "He'll be back," she said firmly. "He cares about Ginny too much, even if he won't admit it to anyone else but me."  
  
Harry made a face.  
  
"Besides," Elle continued, as if she hadn't seen his reaction. "Everything's not perfect...yet."  
  
Stepping back from Harry for a moment, Elle narrowed her eyes in concentration and raised her hands toward the sky. Instantly, hundreds of brilliantly colored fireworks shot out from her fingertips and burst into the night, lighting the grounds and showering sparkles down onto the people below.  
  
Ron, Hermione, and everyone else looked up in surprise, staring in wonder at the lovely show of lights.  
  
Elle smiled to herself, lowering her hands and watching as the fireworks continued to burst loudly.  
  
"I thought you said you were never going to use your powers again," Harry said to her, watching his daughter from across the way.  
  
Calla was staring up at the fireworks in awe, laughing and gurgling every time one of them exploded. She didn't seem the least bit scared by the noise. Instead, she reached out her little arms, as if she wanted to pluck one of them right out of the sky.  
  
Elle laughed, and turned back to Harry. "There will always be exceptions," she said in response.  
  
She wrapped her arms around Harry again, her eyes and hair shining in the colorful light.  
  
" _Now_  everything's perfect," she whispered, before closing her eyes and locking Harry in a kiss.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> Author’s Note:  
> I hope you all enjoyed the story! It’s been a pleasure writing for all of you, and reading your wonderful reviews along the way! Thank you all so much! Any and all feedback for this chapter, as well as the previous ones, is greatly appreciated :)
> 
> LoveSpell


	49. Epilogue

**ONE YEAR LATER**

“Harry, we did it! We really did it! We’re Aurors now!”

Harry laughed as Elle leapt into his arms. They were standing in the middle of their living room holding identical letters, having just received the results of their final Auror assessments. It had been a tense few minutes as they read their letters in silence, but now they could both breathe a sigh of relief- after a year of training, and studying, and dedicating themselves to eradicating the Dark Arts, they had finally passed. They were now official Aurors employed by the Ministry of Magic.

Harry hugged Elle tightly and twirled her around, placing her gently back on the floor. Calla, sensing their excitement, abandoned her toys and toddled over to them from the living room floor. She raised her little arms up and Elle hoisted her into the air, continuing her twirling.

“We did it, we did it, we did it!” she continued to cry, as Calla squealed along in excitement.

Harry grinned and watched his wife and daughter as they spun in happiness. Today was Ron and Hermione’s anniversary, and the day the Potters qualified as Aurors. It was also New Year’s Eve.

Ron and Hermione themselves were sitting at Harry and Elle’s kitchen table, grinning. Ron and Hermione had gotten their congratulatory letters a few weeks ago. They had gotten a bit of a head start in their training, as Harry and Elle had taken awhile getting Calla settled in to her new daycare. Thankfully, Calla seemed to fit in just fine. Harry knew Elle worried about their daughter while they were away, but they both knew becoming Aurors was something they had to do.

Besides, they still made plenty of time for Calla. Elle made sure to make friends with the other mothers at the daycare, and so Calla was given invitations to many birthday parties and playdates. Harry and Elle also took Calla out every weekend- to the zoo, to the park, to the swimming pool; anywhere they thought a toddler might have the time of her life. They even apparated to California one weekend, where they joined forces with Brian and Ally and took Calla to Disneyland for the first time. If Harry was being honest, he thought Elle may have enjoyed that a bit more than Calla…even if they did sneakily Apparate to the front of the ride queues now and then. 

“I hope you two are ready to start seeing some familiar faces,” Ron remarked, as Elle put Calla down. Both seemed slightly dizzy. “Lots of the old crew work at the Ministry now.”

“Like who?” Elle asked. Calla stumbled over to Hermione; she was unsteady on her tiny little legs. Hermione picked her up and immediately began bouncing her on her lap.

“Like your best friend Parvati,” Ron said sarcastically. “Can you believe she’s actually secretary to the Minister?”

Elle wrinkled her nose. She had managed to avoid Parvati for a year and wasn’t too keen at the prospect of bumping into her again. Even though the two had made amends a while ago, that didn’t mean they were overly fond of each other.

“Who else?” Harry asked curiously.

“Well,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Ginny’s working in the International Liaison office.”

“Really?” Elle asked in interest. “That’s great! I haven’t seen her in a while, how is she?”

Hermione sighed. “Well, you know how she’s been ever since…um…he left…”

Ron grumbled a curse under his breath. Hermione cleared her throat.

“But she seems much happier nowadays,” she finished hastily.

Elle knew exactly whom Hermione was talking about it, but didn’t bother to elaborate. “Anyone else?”

“Cho’s assisting on a project down by the courthouses,” Ron continued. “And Luna’s a floor beneath her, in the Department of Mysteries.”

Harry and Elle shared a look. Then Elle laughed.

“Seems like the Ministry will feel just like being back at Hogwarts,” Elle remarked.

“Except with paychecks,” Ron supplied.

They all giggled. Hermione put Calla down, and the little girl went running up to Elle, her dark hair flying out behind her.

“Mama,” she said, raising her arms once again. Elle lifted her into the air for the second time and balanced Calla on her hip. Harry summoned Calla’s teddy bear off the floor and handed it to the little girl. Calla beamed at Harry in appreciation.

Ron wrapped his arm around Hermione as the two of them watched Harry, Elle, and Calla. Hermione sighed and rested her head against Ron’s chest.

“Calla’s getting more adorable by the day,” Hermione said wistfully, watching the toddler hug her teddy bear.

Elle rolled her eyes. “She’s only being good because you two are here, and she knows Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron bring her toys. By the way, thanks Hermione, but I think we now officially own every single children’s book in existence.”

“Well, she’ll be able to read soon!” Hermione insisted.

Harry laughed. “Even so, you should see her sometimes. Calla can be a right little terror.”

Calla looked up at her dad with innocent eyes, and then did a perfect eye roll. Harry gulped.  _Oh, yeah, he was in trouble with this one._

Ron raised his eyebrows at Calla and then grinned at Hermione.

“I can give you one of those, you know,” he said, nudging Hermione’s elbow.

Hermione laughed. “What, a child?”

“No, a troll. Yes, a child! What do you think?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Why not?”

“We just became Aurors, and now you want to stick me at home with babies?”

“You wouldn’t be stuck at home! Come on, it’d be fun! They’ll all be little geniuses like you, and they’ll all be dashingly handsome like me.”

“All? How many are we talking about?”

“I dunno, six, seven…”

“Frankly, I’d rather have six or seven trolls.”

“Guys!” Elle interrupted, laughing. “Listen to yourselves, you two are ridiculous!”

“Actually,” Harry said, grinning at Calla. “It isn’t such a bad idea. It’s about time our daughter earned herself a partner in crime.”

“Yeah!” Ron said, looking delighted at the possibility. “See Hermione, Harry agrees with me!”

Hermione sighed and gave a reluctant laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll think about it,” she muttered grudgingly.

“Yay! We’re going to have a baby!”

Hermione grimaced at Ron. “Not for a while.”

Ron smiled. “Oh, well. It’s a start.”

Harry shook his head and checked his watch.

“Come on guys, let’s go outside. It’s almost time to ring in the New Year.”

After taking some time to bundle Calla up in scarves, boots, and blankets, the five of them traipsed out onto the front lawn. The grass was crisp under their feet, and the chilly night air whipped at their cheeks and ruffled their hair. Ron took out his wand and conjured a blanket out of thin air, laying it at their feet. They all sat down on top of it, and Hermione, with a point of her own wand, set fire to a bundle of logs nearby.

They warmed their hands by the fire, silent for the moment. Harry and Elle sat side by side; Calla ran in circles around the fire, fascinated by the flames. Harry and Elle would usually never let her stay up this late, but tonight was a celebration. 

“Don’t get too close,” Elle warned, flexing her fingers, ready to put out the fire at a moment’s notice.

Harry rubbed Elle’s shoulders. “Stop worrying,” he murmured into her ear. “She’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Elle said. “But It’s my job to worry.”

Harry smiled, and kissed her gently. “Happy new year,” he whispered.

Elle grinned. “Best new year’s ever.”

Calla reached out a hand, ready to touch the burning logs. Before Elle could cry out, Ron snatched the little girl out of harm’s way.

“I’ve got you,” Ron said, grabbing her around the middle and tickling her. Calla laughed and sat next to Ron, clutching her teddy bear and keeping a steady distance from the fire. Hermione was watching Ron with an odd gleam in her eyes.

“What?” Ron asked her.

“Nothing,” Hermione said. “Happy anniversary, I suppose.”

Ron laughed. “I can’t believe you’ve put up with me for a whole year.”

“Indeed. I deserve an Order of Merlin, at least.”

“You deserve more than that,” Ron said, kissing her. “Mrs. Weasley.”

As the last moments of the year passed by, and Harry held his two girls close, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. In one year, he’d managed to defeat his mortal enemy, become an Auror, and help raise his almost two-year-old daughter- all daunting tasks, all equally demanding in different ways. Of course, there had been good times and bad times and some days, he wanted to scream…but for the most part, he wouldn’t trade his life now for anything in the world.

And so, Harry brought in the New Year with his wife, his daughter, and his best friends. It had taken him a long time…a lifetime, in fact…but he had finally achieved the one thing he had always wanted. The one thing that couldn’t come in a letter, even if that letter was delivered by an official Ministry owl.

A family.


End file.
